THE     PG  HOLER. 


WESTERN  CHARACTERS 


OR 


TYPES  OF  BORDER  LIFE 


WESTERN  STATES 


BY   J.    L.    McCONNEL 

1  X 

AXJTHOR  OF  "TALBOT  AND  VEBNON,"  —  "  THE  GLENNS,"  ETC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY   DAKLEY 


R  E  D  F  I  E  L  D, 

110   AND    112   NASSAU    STREET,    NEW    5TORIL 

1853. 


F 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 
BY  J.  S.  REDFIELD, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  in  and  for 
the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


STEREOTYPED    BY   C.   C.   SAVAG2, 
13  Chambers  Street,  N.  Y. 


PKEFATORY  NOTE. 

ATTEMPTS  to  delineate  local  character  are  always 
liable  to  misconstruction ;  for,  the  more  truthful  the 
sketch,  the  greater  is  the  number  of  persons,  to  whom 
resemblance  may  be  discovered ;  and  thus,  while  in 
fact  only  describing  the  characteristics  of  a  class, 
authors  are  frequently  subjected,  very  unjustly,  to 
the  imputation  of  having  invaded  the  privacy  of  in 
dividuals.  Particularly  is  this  so,  when  the  class 
is  idealized,  and  an  imaginary  type  is  taken,  as  the 
representative  of  the  species. 

I  deem  it  proper,  therefore,  to  say  in  advance, 
that  no  attempt  has  been  made  in  the  following 
pages,  to  portray  any  individual;  and  that — al 
though  I  hope  I  have  not  been  so  unsuccessful,  as 
to  paint  pictures  which  have  no  originals  —  if  there 
be  a  portrait  in  any  sketch,  it  consists,  not  in  the 
likeness  of  the  picture  to  the  person,  but  of  both  to 
the  type. 

As  originally  projected,  the  book  would  have 
borne  this  explanation  upon  its  face ;  but  the  cir 
cumstances  which  have  reduced  its  dimensions,  and 

M19G1SO 


4:  PEEFATOEY   NOTE. 

changed  its  plan,  have  also  rendered  necessary  a 
disclaimer,  which  would,  otherwise,  have  been  su 
perfluous. 

One  or  two  of  the  sketches  might  have  been  made 
more  complete  had  I  been  fortunate  enough  to  meet 
with  certain  late  publications,  in  time  to  use  them. 
Such  is  the  elaborate  work  of  Mr.  Schoolcraft  upon 
Indian  History  and  Character ;  and  such,  also,  is 
that  of  Mr.  Shea,  upon  the  voyages  and  labors  of 
Marquette — a  book  whose  careful  accuracy,  clear 
style,  and  lucid  statement,  might  have  been  of  much 
service  in  writing  the  sketch  entitled  "  The  Voya- 
geur"  Unfortunately,  however,  I  saw  neither  of 
these  admirable  publications,  until  my  work  had  as 
sumed  its  present  shape — a  fact  which  I  regret  as 
much  for  my  reader's  sake  as  my  own. 

J.  L.  McC. 

July  15,  1853. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

INTRODUCTORY 7 

I. 
THE  INDIAN 19 

II. 
THE  YOYAQEUR 62 

III. 
THE  PIONEER 106 

IY. 
THE  RANGER 157 

Y. 
THE  REGULATOR 171 

YI. 
THE  JUSTICE  OF  THE  PEACE 246 

YII. 
THE  PEDDLER 268 

YIII. 
THE  SCHOOLMASTER 288 

IX 
THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS 819 

X. 

THE  POLITICIAN..  ...  340 


USTTEODUCTOEY. 

"  Our  Mississippi,  rolling  proudly  on, 

Would  sweep  them  from  its  path,  or  swallow  up, 
Like  Aaron's  rod,  those  streams  of  fame  and  song." 

MRS.  HALK. 

THE  valley  of  a  river  like  the  channel  of  a 
man's  career,  does  not  always  bear  proportion 
to  the  magnitude  or  volume  of  the  current, 
which  flows  through  it.  Mountains,  forests, 
deserts,  physical  barriers  to  the  former  —  and 
the  obstacles  of  prejudice,  and  accidents  of 
birth  and  education,  moral  barriers  to  the  lat 
ter —  limit,  modify,  and  impair  the  usefulness 
of  each.  A  river  thus  confined,  an  intellect 
thus  hampered,  may  be  noisy,  fretful,  turbu 
lent,  but,  in  the  contemplation,  there  is  ever  a 
feeling  of  the  incongruity  between  the  purpose 
and  the  power ;  and  it  is  only  when  the  valley 
is  extended,  the  field  of  effort  open,  that  we 
can  avoid  the  impression  of  energy  wasted,  and 
strength  frittered  away.  The  great  intellect, 


8  INTRODUCTORY. 

whose  scope  is  not  confined  by  ancient  land 
marks,  or  old  prejudices,  is  thus  typified  by  the 
broad,  deep  river,  whose  branches  penetrate  the 
Earth  on  every  hand,  and  add  to  the  current 
the  tributaries  of  all  climes.  In  this  view,  how 
noble  an  object  is  the  Mississippi ! 

In  extent,  fertility,  variety  of  scenery,  and 
diversity  of  climate,  its  valley  surpasses  any 
other  in  the  world.  It  is  the  great  aorta  of 
the  continent,  and  receives  a  score  of  tributary 
rivers,  the  least  of  which  is  larger  than  the 
vaunted  streams  of  mighty  empires.  It  might 
furnish  natural  boundaries  to  all  Europe,  and 
yet  leave,  for  every  country,  a  river  greater  than 
the  Seine.  It  discharges,  in  one  year,  more 
water  than  has  issued  from  the  Tiber  in  five 
centuries ;  it  swallows  up  near  fifty  nameless 
rivers  longer  than  the  Thames ;  the  addition 
of  the  waters  of  the  Danube  would  not  swell  it 
half  a  fathom  ;  and  in  a  single  bend,  the  navies 
of  the  world  might  safely  ride  at  anchor,  five 
hundred  miles  from  sea. 

It  washes  the  shores  of  twelve  powerful  states, 
and  between  its  arms  lies  space  enough  for  twen 
ty  more.  The  rains  which  fall  upon  the  Allega- 
nies,  and  the  snows  that  shroud  the  slopes  and 
cap  the  summits  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  are 
borne  upon  its  bosom,  to  the  regions  of  perpet- 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

ual  summer,  and  poured  into  the  sea,  more  than 
fifteen  hundred  leagues  from  their  sources.  It 
has  formed  a  larger  tract  of  land,  by  the  de- 
posites  of  its  inundations,  than  is  contained  in 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland ;  and  every  year  it 
roots  up  and  bears  away  more  trees,  than  there 
are  in  the  Black  Forest.  At  a  speed  unknown 
to  any  other  great  river,  it  rolls  a  volume,  in 
whose  depths  the  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's  might 
be  sunk  out  of  sight ;  and  five  hundred  leagues 
from  its  mouth,  it  is  wider  than  at  thirty. 

It  annually  bears  away  more  acres  than  it 
would  require  to  make  a  German  principality, 
engulfing  more  than  the  revenues  of  many  a 
petty  kingdom.  Beneath  its  turbid  waters  lie 
argosies  of  wealth,  and  floating  palaces,  among 
whose  gilded  halls  and  rich  saloons  are  sporting 
slimy  creatures ;  below  your  very  feet,  as  you 
sail  along  its  current,  are  resting  in  its  bed, 
half  buried  in  the  sand,  the  bodies  of  bold  men 
and  tender  maidens  ;  and  their  imploring  hands 
are  raised  toward  Heaven,  and  the  world  which 
floats,  unheeding,  on  the  surface.  There  lies, 
entombed,  the  son  whose  mother  knows  not  of 
his  death ;  and  there  the  husband,  for  whose 
footstep,  even  yet,  the  wife  is  listening  —  here, 
the  mother  with  her  infant  still  clasped  fondly 
to  her  breast ;  and  here,  united  in  their  lives, 
1* 


10  INTEODUCTOEY. 

not  separated  in  their  death,  lie,  side  by  side, 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  of  a  day;  —  and, 
hiding  the  dread  secrets  from  all  human  ken, 
the  mighty  and  remorseless  river  passes  on 
ward,  like  the  stream  of  human  life,  toward 
"  the  land  of  dreams  and  shadows !" 

To  the  contemplative  mind,  there  is,  perhaps, 
no  part  of  the  creation,  in  which  may  not  be 
found  the  seed  of  much  reflection ;  but  of  all 
the  grand  features  of  the  earth's  surface,  next  to 
a  lofty  mountain,  that  which  impresses  us  most 
deeply  is  a  great  river.  Its  pauseless  flow,  the 
stern  momentum  of  its  current — its  remorseless 
coldness  to  all  human  hopes  and  fears — the  se 
crets  which  lie  buried  underneath  its  waters, 
and  the  myriad  purposes  of  those  it  bears  upon 
its  bosom  —  are  all  so  clearly  typical  of  Time. 
The  waters  will  not  pause,  though  dreadful  bat 
tles  may  be  fought  upon  their  shores  —  as  Time 
will  steadily  march  forward,  though  the  fate 
of  nations  hang  upon  the  conflict.  The  mo 
ments  fly  as  swiftly,  while  a  mighty  king  is 
breathing  out  his  life,  as  if  he  were  a  lowly 
peasant;  and  the  current  flows  as  coldly  on, 
while  men  are  struggling  in  the  eddies,  as  if 
each  drowning  wretch  were  but  a  floating  weed. 
Time  gives  no  warning  of  the  hidden  dangers 
on  which  haughty  conquerors  are  rushing,  as 


INTRODUCTORY.  11 

the  perils  of  the  waters  are  revealed  but  in  the 
crashing  of  the  wreck. 

But  the  parallel  does  not  stop  here.  The 
sources  of  the  Mississippi  —  were  it  even  possi 
ble  that  they  should  ever  be  otherwise — are 
still  unknown  to  man.  Like  the  stream  of  his 
tory,  its  head-springs  are  in  the  regions  of  fable 
• — in  the  twilight  of  remote  latitudes;  and  it  is 
only  after  it  has  approached  us,  and  assumed  a 
definite  channel,  that  we  are  able  to  determine 
which  is  the  authentic  stream.  It  flows  from 
the  country  of  the  savage,  toward  that  of  civi 
lization  ;  and  like  the  gradations  of  improve 
ment  among  men,  are  the  thickening  fields  and 
growing  cultivation,  which  define  the  periods 
of  its  course.  Near  its  mouth,  it  has  reached 
the  culmination  of  refinement — its  last  ripe 
fruit,  a  crowded  city ;  and,  beyond  this,  there 
lies  nothing  but  a  brief  journey,  and  a  plunge 
into  the  gulf  of  Eterni  ty  ! 

Thus,  an  emblem  of  the  stream  of  history,  it 
is  still  more  like  a  march  along  the  highway 
of  a  single  human  life.  As  the  sinless  thoughts 
of  smiling  childhood  are  the  little  rivulets, 
which  afterward  become  the  mighty  river; 
like  the  infant,  airy,  volatile,  and  beautiful  — 
sparkling  as  the  dimpled  face  of  innocence  — 
a  faithful  reflex  of  the  lights  and  shadows  of 


12  INTRODUCTORY. 

existence ;  and  revealing,  through  the  limpid 
wave,  the  golden  sands  which  lie  beneath. 
Anon,  the  errant  channels  are  united  in  one 
current — life  assumes  a  purpose,  a  direction — 
but  the  waters  are  yet  pure,  and  mirror  on  their 
face  the  thousand  forms  and  flashing  colors  of 
Creation's  beauty  —  as  happy  boyhood,  rapidly 
perceptive  of  all  loveliness,  gives  forth,  in  radi 
ant  smiles,  the  glad  impressions  of  unfaded 
youth. 

Yet  sorrow  cometh  even  to  the  happiest. 
Misfortune  is  as  stern  a  leveller  as  Death  ;  and 
early  youth,  with  all  its  noble  aspirations,  gor 
geous  visions,  never  to  be  realized,  must  often 
plunge,  like  the  placid  river  over  a  foaming 
cataract,  down  the  precipice  of  affliction  —  even 
while  its  current,  though  nearing  the  abyss, 
flow  softly  as  "  the  waters  of  Shiloah."  It  may 
be  the  death  of  a  mother,  whom  the  bereaved 
half  deemed  immortal — some  disappointment, 
like  the  falsehood  of  one  dearly  loved  —  some 
rude  shock,  as  the  discovery  of  a  day-dream's 
hollowness ;  happy,  thrice  happy !  if  it  be  but 
one  of  these,  and  not  the  descent  from  inno 
cence  to  sin ! 

But  life  rolls  on,  as  does  the  river,  though  its 
wave  no  longer  flows  in  placid  beauty,  nor  re 
veals  the  hidden  things  beneath.  The  ripples 


INTEODTJCTOEY.  13 

are  now  whirling  eddies,  and  a  hundred  angry 
currents  chafe  along  the  rocks,  as  thought  and 
feeling  fret  against  the  world,  and  waste  their 
strength  in  vain  repining  or  impatient  irrita 
tion.  Tranquillity  returns  no  more ;  and 
though  the  waters  seem  not  turbid,  there  is 
a  shadow  in  their  depths — their  transparency 
is  lost. 

Tributaries,  great  and  small,  flow  in — acces 
sions  of  experience  to  the  man,  of  weight  and 
volume  to  the  river ;  and,  with  force  augment 
ed,  each  rolls  on  its  current  toward  the  ocean. 
A  character,  a  purpose,  is  imparted  to  the  life, 
as  to  the  stream,  and  usefulness  becomes  an 
element  of  being.  The  river  is  a  chain  which 
links  remotest  latitudes,  as  through  the  social 
man  relations  are  established,  binding  alien 
hearts :  the  spark  of  thought  and  feeling,  like 
the  fluid  of  the  magnet,  brings  together  distant 
moral  zones. 

On  it  rushes — through  the  rapids,  where  the 
life  receives  an  impulse  —  driven  forward  — 
haply  downward — among  rocks  and  danger 
ous  channels,  by  the  motives  of  ambition,  by 
the  fierce  desire  of  wealth,  or  by  the  goad  of 
want !  But  soon  the  mad  career  abates,  for 
the  first  effect  of  haste  is  agitation,  and  the 
master-spell  of  power  is  calmness.  Happy  are 


14:  INTRODUCTORY. 

they,  who  learn  this  lesson  early— for,  thence, 
the  current  onward  flows,  a  tranquil,  noiseless, 
but  resistless,  tide.  Manhood,  steady  and  ma 
ture,  with  its  resolute  but  quiet  thoughts,  its 
deep,  unwavering  purposes,  and,  more  than  all, 
its  firm,  profound  affections,  is  passing  thus,  be 
tween  the  shores  of  Time  —  not  only  working 
for  itself  a  channel  broad  and  clear,  but  bear 
ing  on  its  bosom,  toward  Eternity,  uncounted 
wealth  of  hopes. 

But  in  the  middle  of  its  course,  its  character 
is  wholly  changed ;  a  flood  pours  in,  whose 
waters  hold,  suspended,  all  impurities.  A 
struggle,  brief  but  turbulent,  ensues :  the  lim 
pid  wave  of  youth  is  swallowed  up.  Some 
great  success  has  been  achieved ;  unholy  pas 
sions  are  evoked,  and  will  not  be  allayed ; 
thenceforward  there  is  no  relenting ;  and, 
though  the  world — nay!  Heaven  itself!  — 
pour  in,  along  its  course,  broad  tributaries  of 
reclaiming  purity,  the  cloud  upon  the  waters 
can  never  be  dispelled.  The  marl  and  dross 
of  Earth,  impalpable,  but  visibly  corrupting, 
pervade  the  very  nature ;  and  only  when  the 
current  ceases,  will  its  primitive  transparency 
return. 

Still  it  hurries  onward,  with  velocity  aug 
mented,  as  it  nears  its  term.  Yet  its  breadth 


INTRODUCTORY.  15 

is  not  increased ;  the  earth  suspended  in  its 
waters,  like  the  turbid  passions  of  the  human 
soul,  prevents  expansion  ;*  for,  in  man's  career 
through  time,  the  heart  grows  wider  only  in 
the  pure. 

Along  the  base  of  cliffs  and  highlands  — 
through  the  deep  alluvions  of  countless  ages  — 
among  stately  forests  and  across  extended  plains, 
it  flows  without  cessation.  Beyond  full  man 
hood,  character  may  change  no  more  —  as,  be 
low  its  mighty  tributaries,  the  river  is  unaltered. 
Its  full  development  is  reached  among  rich  plan 
tations,  waving  fields,  and  swarming  cities ; 
while,  but  the  journey  of  a  day  beyond,  it 
rushes  into  Eternity,  leaving  a  melancholy  rec 
ord,  as  it  mingles  with  the  waters  of  the  great 
gulf,  even  upon  the  face  of  Oblivion. 

— Within  the  valley  of  this  river,  time  will  see 
a  population  of  two  hundred  millions  ;  and  here 
will  be  the  seat  of  the  most  colossal  power 
Earth  has  yet  contained.  The  heterogeneous 
character  of  the  people  is  of  no  consequence : 
still  less,  the  storms  of  dissension,  which  now 
and  then  arise,  to  affright  the  timid  and  faith 
less.  The  waters  of  all  latitudes  could  not  be 
blended  in  one  element,  and  purified,  without 

*  "  "Were  it  a  clear  stream,  it  would  soon  scoop  itself  out  a 
channel  from  bluff  to  bluff." — Flint's  Geography,  p.  103. 


16  INTEODUCTORY. 

the  tempests  and  cross-currents,  which  lash  the 
ocean  into  fury.  Nor  would  a  stagnant  calm 
ness,  blind  attachment  to  the  limited  horizon 
of  a  homestead,  or  the  absence  of  all  irritation 
or  attrition,  ever  make  one  people  of  the  emi- 
./grants  from  every  clime. 

And,  when  this  nation  shall  have  become 
thoroughly  homogeneous  —  when  the  world 
shall  recognise  the  race,  and,  above  this,  the 
power  of  the  race — will  there  be  no  interest  in 
tracing  through  the  mists  of  many  generations, 
the  outlines  of  that  foundation  on  which  is 
built  the  mighty  fabric  ?  Even  the  infirmities 
and  vices  of  the  men  who  piled  the  first  stones 
of  great  empires,  are  chronicled  in  history  as 
facts  deserving  record.  The  portrait  of  an  an 
cient  hero  is  a  treasure  beyond  value,  even 
though  the  features  be  but  conjectural.  How 
much  more  precious  would  be  a  faithful  por 
trait  of  his  character,  in  which  the  features 
should  be  his  salient  traits  —  the  expression, 
outline,  and  complexion  of  his  nature  ! 

To  furnish  a  series  of  such  portraits  —  em 
bracing  a  few  of  the  earlier  characters,  whose 
"mark"  is  traceable  in  the  growing  civilization 
of  the  West  and  South  —  is  the  design  of  the 
present  work.  The  reader  will  observe  that  its 


INTKODUCTOKY.  17 

logic  is  not  the  selection  of  actual,  but  of  ideal, 
individuals,  each  representing  a  class ;  and  that, 
although  it  is  arranged  chronologically,  the  pe 
riods  are  not  historical,  but  characteristic.  The 
design,  then,  is  double ;  first,  to  select  a  class, 
which  indicates  a  certain  stage  of  social  or  pol 
itical  advancement;  and,  second,  to  present  a 
picture  of  an  imaginary  individual,  who  com 
bines  the  prominent  traits,  belonging  to  the 
class  thus  chosen. 

The  series  baits,  beyond  the  Rubicon  of  con 
temporaneous  portraiture,  for  very  obvious  rea 
sons  ;  but  there  are  still  in  existence  abundant 
means  of  verifying,  or  correcting,  every  sketch. 
I  have  endeavored  to  give  the  consciousness  of 
this  fact  its  full  weight  —  to  resist  the  tempta 
tion  (which,  I  must  admit,  was  sometimes 
strong)  to  touch  the  borders  of  satire ;  and,  in 
conclusion,  I  can  only  hope  that  these  wishes, 
with  an  earnest  effort  at  fidelity,  have  enabled 
me  to  present  truthful  pictures. 


I. 


THE  INDIAN. 

"In  the  same  beaten  channel  still  have  run 

The  blessed  streams  of  human  sympathy ; 
And,  though  I  know  this  ever  hath  been  done, 
The  why  and  wherefore,  I  could  never  see !" 

PHEBE  CAEEY. 

IN  a  work  which  professes  to  trace,  even  in 
distinctly,  the  reclamation  of  a  country  from  a 
state  of  barbarism,  some  notice  of  that  from 
which  it  was  reclaimed  is,  of  course,  necessary; 
and  an  attempt  to  distinguish  the  successive 
periods,  each  by  its  representative  character, 
determines  the  logic  of  such  notice.  Were  we 
as  well  acquainted  with  the  gradations  of  In 
dian  advancement — for  such  unquestionably, 
there  were — as  we  are  with  those  of  the  civil 
ized  man,  we  should  be  able  to  distinguish  eras 
and  periods,  so  as  to  represent  them,  each  by 
its  separate  ideal.  But  civilization  and  barbar 
ism  are  comparative  terms ;  and,  though  it  is 


20  WESTEEN   CHARACTERS. 

difficult,  perhaps  impossible,  precisely  to  fix  the 
point  at  which  one  ceases  and  the  other  begins, 
yet,  within  that  limit,  we  must  consider  barbar 
ism  as  one  period.  Of  this  period,  in  our  plan, 
the  Indian,  without  reference  to  distinction  of 
tribe,  or  variation  in  degree  of  advancement,  is 
the  representative.  As  all  triangles  agree  in 
certain  properties,  though  widely  different  in 
others,  so  all  Indians  are  alike  in  certain  charac 
teristics,  though  differing,  almost  radically,  each 
from  every  other :  But,  as  the  points  of  coinci 
dence  in  triangles  are  those  which  determine 
the  class,  and  the  differences  only  indicate  sub 
species,  so  the  similar  characteristics  in  the 
Indian,  are  those  which  distinguish  the  species, 
and  the  variations  of  character  are,  at  most, 
only  tribal  limits.  An  Indian  who  should  com 
bine  all  the  equivalent  traits,  without  any  of 
the  inequalities,  would,  therefore,  be  the  pure 
ideal  of  his  race.  And  his  composition  should 
include  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good ;  for  a  por 
trait  of  the  savage,  which  should-  represent  him 
as  only  generous  and  brave,  would  be  as  far 
from  a  complete  ideal,  as  one  which  should 
display  only  his  cruelty  and  cunning. 

My  object  in  this  article  is,  therefore,  to  com 
bine  as  many  as  possible  —  or  as  many  as  are 
necessary  —  of  the  general  characteristics  of  the 


THE   INDIAN.  21 

Indian,  botli  good  and  bad — so  as  to  give  a 
fair  view  of  the  character,  according  to  the 
principle  intimated  above.  And  I  may,  per 
haps  without  impropriety,  here  state,  that  this 
may  be  taken  as  the  key  to  all  the  sketches 
which  are  to  follow.  It  is  quite  probable  that 
many  examples  of  each  class  treated,  might 
be  found,  who  are  exceptions  to  the  rules 
stated,  in  almost  every  particular ;  and  it  is 
possible,  that  no  one,  of  any  class  treated,  com 
bined  all  the  characteristics  elaborated.  Ex 
cepting  when  historical  facts  are  related,  or  well- 
authenticated  legends  worked  in,  my  object  is 
not  to  give  portraits  of  individuals,  however 
prominent.  As  was  hinted  above  —  the  logic 
of  the  book  points  only  to  the  ideal  of  each 
class. 

And  this  view  of  the  subject  excludes  all 
those  discussions,  which  have  so  long  puzzled 
philosophers,  about  the  origin  of  the  race  —  our 
business  is  with  the  question  What  is  he  ?  rather 
than  with  the  inquiry,  Whence  did  he  come? 
The  shortest  argument,  however  —  and,  if  the 
assumption  be  admitted,  the  most  conclusive  — 
is  that,  which  assumes  the  literal  truth  of  the 
Mosaic  account  of  the  creation  of  man;  for 
from  this  it  directly  follows,  that  the  aboriginal 


22  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

races  are  descendants  of  Asiatic  emigrants ;  and 
the  minor  questions,  as  to  the  route  they  fol 
lowed  —  whether  across  the  Pacific,  or  by  Behr- 
ing's  strait — are  merely  subjects  of  curious 
speculation,  or  still  more  curious  research.  And 
this  hypothesis  is  quite  consistent  with  the  evi 
dence  drawn  from  Indian  languages,  customs, 
and  physical  developments.  Even  the  argu 
ments  against  the  theory,  drawn  from  differ 
ences  in  these  particulars  among  the  tribes, 
lose  their  force,  when  we  come  to  consider  that 
the  same,  if  not  wider  differences,  are  found 
among  other  races,  indisputably  of  a  single 
stock.  These  things  may  be  satisfactorily  ac 
counted  for,  by  the  same  circumstances  in  the 
one  case,  as  in  the  other  —  by  political  and 
local  situation,  by  climate,  and  unequal  prog 
ress.  Thus,  the  Indian  languages,  says  Pres- 
cott,  in  his  "  Conquest  of  Mexico,"  "  present 
the  strange  anomaly  of  differing  as  widely  in 
etymology,  as  they  agree  in  organization  ;"  but 
a  key  to  the  solution  of  the  problem,  is  found 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  same  sentence :  "  and, 
on  the  other  hand,"  he  continues,*  "  while  they 
bear  some  slight  affinity  to  the  languages  of 
the  Old  World,  in  the  former  particular,  they 
have  no  resemblance  to  them  whatever,  in  the 

*Vol.  Ill,  page  894. 


THE   INDIAN.  23 

latter."  This  is  as  much  as  if  he  had  said,  that 
the  incidents  to  the  lives  of  American  Indians, 
are  totally  different  to  those  of  the  nations  of 
the  Old  "World:  and  these  incidents  are  pre 
cisely  the  circumstances,  which  are  likely  to 
affect  organization,  more  than  etymology.  And 
the  difficulty  growing  out  of  their  differences 
among  themselves,  in  the  latter,  is  surmounted 
by  the  fact,  that  there  is  a  sufficient  general  re 
semblance  among  them  all,  to  found  a  compari 
son  with  "  the  languages  of  the  Old  "World." 
I  believe,  a  parallel  course  of  argument  would 
clear  away  all  other  objections  to  the  theory.* 

But,  as  has  been  said,  the  scope  of  our  work 
includes  none  of  these  discussions;  and  we 
shall,  therefore,  pass  to  the  Indian  character, 
abstracted  from  all  antecedents.  That  this  has 
been,  and  is,  much  misunderstood,  is  the  first 
thought  which  occurs  to  one  who  has  an  oppor- 

*  There  is,  however,  little  necessity  for  any  argument  on  the 
subject:  For,  leaving  out  of  the  question  the  highest  and 
most  sacred  of  authorities,  almost  all  respectable  writers  upon 
ethnology,  including  Buffon,  Volney,  Humboldt,  &c.,  agree  in 
assigning  a  common  origin  to  all  nations, —  though  the  last 
deduces  from  many  particulars,  the  conclusion  that  the  Amer 
ican  Indian  was  "  isolated  in  the  infancy  of  the  world,  from 
the  rest  of  mankind." —  Ancient  Inhabitants  of  America^  vol. 
L,  p.  250. 


24:  WESTEEN  CHAKACTEKS. 

tunity  personally  to  observe  the  savage.  ~Nor  is 
it  justly  a  matter  of  surprise.  The  native  of  this 
continent  has  been  the  subject  of  curious  and 
unsatisfactory  speculation,  since  the  discovery 
of  the  country  by  Columbus :  by  the  very  want 
of  those  things,  which  constitute  the  attraction 
of  other  nations,  he  became  at  once,  and  has 
continued,  the  object  of  a  mysterious  interest. 
The  absence  of  dates  and  facts,  to  mark  tho 
course  of  his  migration,  remits  us  to  conjecture, 
or  the  scarcely  more  reliable  resource  of  tradi 
tion — the  want  of  history  has  made  him  a 
character  of  romance.  The  mere  name  of  In 
dian  gives  the  impression  of  a  shadowy  image, 
looming,  dim  but  gigantic,  through  a  darkness 
which  nothing  else  can  penetrate.  This  mys 
tery  not  only  interests,  but  also  disarms,  the 
mind ;  and  we  are  apt  to  see,  in  the  character, 
around  which  it  hovers,  only  those  qualities 
which  give  depth  to  the  attraction.  The  crea 
tions  of  poetry  and  romance  are  usually  ex 
tremes  ;  and  they  are,  perhaps,  necessarily  so, 
when  the  nature  of  the  subject  furnishes  no 
standard,  by  which  to  temper  the  conception. 

"  The  efforts  of  a  poet's  imagination  are,  more 
or  less,  under  the  control  of  his  opinions :"  but 
opinions  of  men  are  founded  upon  their  history ; 
and  there  is,  properly,  no  historical  Indian 


THE    INDIAN.  25 

character.  The  consequence  has  been,  that 
poets  and  novelists  have  constructed  their  sav 
age  personages  according  to  a  hypothetical 
standard,  of  either  the  virtues  or  vices,  belong 
ing,  potentially,  to  the  savage  state.  The  same 
rule,  applied  to  portraiture  of  civilized  men, 
would  at  once  be  declared  false  and  perni 
cious  ;  and  the  only  reason  why  it  is  not  equally 
so,  in  its  application  to  the  Indian,  is,  because 
the  separation  between  him  and  us  is  so  broad, 
that  our  conceptions  of  his  character  can  exert 
little  or  no  influence  upon  our  intercourse  with 
mankind. 

Sympathy  for  what  are  called  the  Indian's 
misfortunes,  has,  also,  induced  the  class  of  wri 
ters,  from  whom,  almost  exclusively,  our  notions 
of  his  character  are  derived,  to  represent  him 
in  his  most  genial  phases,  and  even  to  palliate 
his  most  ferocious  acts,  by  reference  to  the  in 
justice  and  oppression,  of  which  he  has  been 
the  victim.  If  we  were  to  receive  the  author 
ity  of  these  writers,  we  should  conclude  that 
the  native  was  not  a  savage,  at  all,  until  the 
landing  of  the  whites  ;  and,  instead  of  ascribing 
his  atrocities  to  the  state  of  barbarism  in  which 
he  lived  —  thus  indicating  their  only  valid 
apology  —  we  should  degrade  both  the  white 
and  the  red  men,  by  attributing  to  the  former 
2 


26  AVESTERN    ( 

all  imaginable  vices,  arid,  to  the  latter,  a  pecu 
liar  aptitude  in  acquiring  them.  These  mis 
takes  are  natural  and  excusable  —  as  the  man 
who  kills  another  in  self-defence  is  justifiable  ; 
but  the  Indian  character  is  not  the  less  miscon 
ceived,  just  as  the  man  slain  is  not  less  dead, 
than  if  malice  had  existed  in  both  cases.  To 
praise  one  above  his  merits,  is  as  fatal  to  his 
consideration,  as  decidedly  to  disparage  him. 
In  either  case,  however,  there  is  a  chance  that 
a  just  opinion  may  be  formed;  but,  when  both 
extremes  are  asserted  with  equal  confidence, 
the  mind  is  confused,  and  can  settle  upon  noth 
ing.  The  latter  is  precisely  the  condition  of 
the  Indian  ;  and  it  is  with  a  view  of  correcting 
such  impressions,  that  this  article  is  written. 

The  American  Indian,  then,  is  the  ideal  of  a 
savage  —  no  more,  no  less:  and  I  call  him  the 
ideal,  because  he  displays  all  those  qualities, 
which  the  history  of  the  human  race  authorizes 
us  to  infer,  as  the  characteristics  of  an  unen 
lightened  people,  for  many  ages  isolated  from 
the  rest  of  mankind  ?*  He  differs,  in  many 

*  It  will  be  observed,  that  I  assume  the  unity  of  the  Indian 
race ;  and  I  am  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  recent 
discussions  on  the  subject,  to  be  certain  whether  the  question 
is  still  considered  open.  But  the  striking  analogies  between 


THE    INDIAN.  27 

particulars,  from  the  other  barbarians  of  the 
world  ;  but  the  broadest  distinction  lies  in  this 
completeness  of  his  savage  character.  The  pe 
culiarities  of  the  country  in  which  their  lives 
assume  their  direction,  its  climate,  isolation;  or 
connection  with  the  world  —  all  these  things  con 
tribute  to  modify  the  aspects  presented  by  native 
races.  In  such  points  as  are  liable  to  modifica 
tion  by  these  causes,  the  American  differs  from 
every  other  savage  ;  and  without  entering  into 
an  elaborate  comparison  of  circumstances  —  for 
which  we  have  neither  the  material,  the  incli 
nation,  nor  the  space  —  it  may  be  proper  briefly 
to  consider  one  of  these  causes,  and  endeavor 
to  trace  its  effects  in  the  Indian's  moral  physi 
ognomy. 

The  state  of  this  continent,  when  the  first 
Asiatic  wanderers  landed  upon  its  shores,  was, 
of  course,  that  of  a  vast,  unbroken  solitude ; 
and  the  contemplation  of  its  almost  boundless 
extent  and  profound  loneliness,  was  certainly 
the  first,  and  probably  the  most  powerful  agen 
cy,  at  work  in  modifying  their  original  charac 
ter.  What  the  primary  effects  of  this  cause 

the  customs,  physical  formation,  and  languages  of  all  the  vari 
ous  divisions,  (except  the  Esquimaux,  who  are  excluded),  I 
think,  authorize  the  assumption. 


28  WESTERN    CIIAKACTEES. 

were  likely  to  be,  we  may  observe  in  the  white 
emigrants,  who  have  sought  a  home  among  the 
forests  and  upon  the  plains  of  the  west :  what 
ever  they  may  have  been  before  their  migra 
tion,  they  soon  become  meditative,  abstracted, 
and  taciturn.  These,  and  especially  the  last, 
are  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  Indian  ; 
his  taciturnity,  indeed,  amounts  to  austerity, 
sometimes  impressing  the  observer  with  the 
idea  of  affectation.  The  dispersion,  which  must 
have  been  the  effect  of  unlimited  choice  in 
lands  —  the  mode  of  life  pursued  by  those  who 
depended  upon  the  chase  for  subsistence  —  the 
gradual  estrangement  produced  among  the  sepa 
rate  tribes,  by  the  necessity  of  wide  hunting- 
grounds  —  the  vast  expanse  of  territory  at  com 
mand  —  causes  operating  so  long,  as  to  produce 
a  fixed  and  corresponding  nature  —  are  the 
sources,  to  which  we  may  trace  almost  all  the 
Indian's  distinctive  traits. 

"  Isolation,"  Carlyle  says,  "  is  the  sum  total 
of  wretchedness  to  man ;"  and,  doubtless,  the 
idea  which  he  means  to  convey  is  just.  "  But," 
in  the  words  of  De  Quincey,  "no  man  can  be 
truly  great,  without  at  least  chequering  his  life 
with  solitude."  Separation  from  his  kind,  of 
course,  deprives  a  man  of  the  humanizing  influ 
ences,  which  are  the  consequences  of  associa- 


THE   INDIAN.  29 

tion ;  but  it  may,  at  the  same  time,  strengthen 
some  of  the  noblest  qualities  of  human  nature. 
Thus,  we  are  authorized  to  ascribe  to  this  agen 
cy,  a  portion  of  the  Indian's  fortitude  under 
hardships  and  suffering,  his -contempt  for  mere 
meanness,  and  above  all,  the  proud  elevation 
of  his  character.  The  standards  of  comparison, 
which  were  furnished  by  his  experience,  were 
few,  and,  of  course,  derived  from  the  ideas  of 
barbarians ;  but  all  such  as  were  in  any  way 
modified  by  the  solitude  of  his  existence,  were 
rendered  impressive,  solemn,  and  exalted. 

In  the  vast  solitudes  of  Asia,  whence  the  In 
dian  races  migrated  to  this  continent,  so  far  as 
the  loneliness  of  savage  deserts  and  endless 
plains  might  exert  an  influence,  we  should  ex 
pect  to  find  the  same  general  character.  But 
the  Asians  are  almost  universally  pastoral  — 
the  Americans  never ;  the  wildest  tribes  of 
Tartary  possess  numerous  useful  domesticated 
animals  —  the  Americans,  even  in  Mexico,* 
had  none  ;  the  Tartars  are  acquainted  with  the 
use  of  milk,  and  have  been  so  from  time  im 
memorial —  the  Indian,  even  at  this  day,  has 
adopted  it  only  in  a  few  localities,  among  the 
more  enlightened  tribes.  The  migration  of  the 
latter  either  took  place  at  a  period  before  even 

*  Conquest  of  Mexico,  vol.  iii.,  p.  416. 


30  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

his  Asiatic  father  had  discovered  its  use,  or  the 
accidents  which  brought  him  to  this  continent, 
were  such  as  to  preclude  importing  domesti 
cated  animals ;  and  the  lapse  of  a  few  genera 
tions  was  sufficient  to  obliterate  even  the 
recollection  of  such  knowledge.  "  And,"  says 
Prescott,*  "  he  might  well  doubt,  whether  the 
wild,  uncouth  monsters,  whom  he  occasionally 
saw  bounding  with  such  fury  over  the  distant 
plains,  were  capable  of  domestication,  like  the 
meek  animals  which  he  had  left  grazing  in  the 
green  pastures  of  Asia."  To  this  leading  dis 
tinction —  the  adoption  and  neglect  of  pastoral 
habits  —  may  be  referred  most  of  the  diversi 
ties  among  races,  unquestionably  of  one  stock. 

Reasoning  from  the  effects  upon  human  char 
acter,  produced  by  the  face  of  different  coun 
tries,  we  might  expect  to  find,  in  the  Indian, 
among  other  things,  a  strong  tendency  toward 
poetical  thought,  embodied,  not  in  the  mode  of 
expression  usually  denominated  poetry,  but  in 
the  style  of  his  addresses,  the  peculiarities  of  his 
theories,  or  the  construction  of  his  mythology, 
language,  and  laws.  This  expectation  is  total 
ly  disappointed  ;  but  when  we  examine  the 
degree  and  character  of  his  advancement,  and 

*  Conquest  of  Mexico,  vol.  iii.,  p.  417. 


THE    INDIAN.  31 

recollect  a  few  of  the  circumstances,  among 
which  the  poetry  looked  for  would  be  obliged 
to  grow,  our  disappointment  loses  its  element 
of  surprise.  The  contemplation  of  Nature  in 
her  primitive,  terrible,  and  beautiful  forms  — 
the  habit  of  meditation,  almost  the  necessary 
consequence  of  solitude  —  the  strange,  wild 
enchantment  of  an  adventurous  life  —  have 
failed  to  develop  in  the  Indian,  any  but  selfish 
and  sensual  ideas.  Written  poetry  was,  of 
course,  not  to  be  expected,  even  from  the  in 
digenous  civilization  of  Mexico  and  Peru;  yet 
we  might,  with  some  ground  for  hope,  seek 
occasional  traces  of  poetical  thought  and  feel 
ing.  We  look  in  vain  for  any  such  thing. 

"  Extremes  meet,"  says  one  of  the  wisest  of 
adages  ;  and  the  saying  was  never  more  singu 
larly  and  profoundly  vindicated,  than  in  its 
application  to  civilization  and  barbarism.  The 
savage  rejects  all  that  does  not  directly  gratify 
his  selfish  wants  —  the  highly-civilized  man  is, 
in  like  manner,  governed  by  the  principle  of 
utility  j  and,  by  both,  the  merely  fanciful  and 
imaginative  is  undervalued.  Thus,  as  Mr. 
Macaulay*  ingeniously  says,  "  A  great  poem, 
in  a  highly-polished  state  of  society,  is  the 
most  wonderful  and  splendid  proof  of  genius." 

*  Essays — Art.  '  Milton.' 


32  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

But,  for  the  same  reasons,  the  savage,  who 
should  display  any  remarkably  poetical  feeling 
or  tone  of  thought,  would  be  quite  as  .great  a 
prodigy.  Poetry  flourishes  most  luxuriantly 
midway  between  the  two  extremes.  Its  essence 
is  the  contemplation  of  great  passions  and  ac 
tions —  of  love,  revenge,  ambition.  Imagina 
tion  is  then  vivified  by  the  means  of  expression 
or  articulation  ;  and,  in  the  half-civilized  state, 
neither  a  refined  public  sentiment,  nor  the 
other  extreme  of  barbarous  isolation,  restrains 
the  exhibition  of  great  (and  poetical)  emotions. 
The  best  of  Hazlitt's  numerous  definitions 
of  poetry,  determines  it  to  be  "  the  excess  of 
imagination,  beyond  the  actual  or  ordinary  im 
pression  of  any  object  or  feeling."*  But  the 
Indian  was  destitute  of  all  imagination  ;  appa 
rently,  the  composition  of  his  nature  included 
no  such  element ;  and,  certainly,  the  rude  exi 
gencies  of  his  life  did  not  admit  its  action. 
Even  the  purity  of  his  mythology,  compared  to 
that  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,f  has  been  (by 
Lord  Lindsay)  attributed  to  this  want  —  though, 
if  such  were  its  only  effects,  it  might  very  well 
be  supplied. 

*  Lectures  on  English  Poets,  p.  4. 

f  No  very  high  compliment,  but  as  high  as  it  deserves.     "We 
shall  see  anon. 


THE   INDIAN.  33 

The  Indian  has  no  humor,  no  romance  — 
how  could  he  possess  poetical  feeling?  The 
gratification  of  sensual  wants  is  the  end  of  his 
life — 'too  often,  literally  the  end  !  "He  con 
siders  everything  beneath  his  notice,  which  is 
not  necessary  to  his  advantage  or  enjoyment."* 
To  him  a  jest  is  as  unmeaning  as  the  babbling  of 
a  brook  ;  his  wife  is  a  beast  of  burden  ;  and  even 
his  courting  is  carried  on  by  gifts  of  good  things 
to  eat,  sent  to  the  parents. f  Heaven  is  merely  a 
hunting-ground ;  his  language  has  no  words  to 
express  abstract  qualities,  virtues,  vices,  or  sen- 
timents.J  His  idea  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  the 
word  which  expresses  it,  may  be  applied  with 
equal  propriety  to  a  formidable  (though  not 
beneficent)  animal  j  indeed,  the  Indian  words 
which  we  translate  "  spirit,"  mean  only  superi 
or  power,  without  the  qualification  of  good  or 
evil.  He  has  not  even  the  ordinary  inhabitive 
instinct  of  the  human  race ;  his  attachment  to 
any  region  of  country  depends  upon  its  capacity 
to  furnish  game,  and  the  fading  of  the  former 
keeps  pace  with  the  disappearance  of  the  latter. 
"  Attachment  to  the  graves  of  his  fathers,"  is  an 
agreeable  fiction  —  unfortunately,  only  a  fic- 

*  Warburton's  Conquest  of  Canada,  vol.  i.,  p.  177. 

f  Bancroft's  United  States,  vol.  iii.,  p.  256. 

$  Hunter's  Memoirs,  p.  236.      Western  Annals,  p.  712. 

2* 


34  WESTERN    CIIAEACTEES. 

tion.*  He  lias  always  been  nomadic,  without 
the  pastoral  habits  which  the  word  supposes : 
a  mere  wandering  savage,  without  purpose  or 
motive,  beyond  the  gratification  of  the  tempo 
rary  want,  whim,  or  passion,  and  void  of  every 
thing  deserving  the  name  of  sentiment. 


An  extravagant,  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  ground 
less,  notion  has  obtained  currency,  among  al 
most  all  writers  upon  the  Indian  character,  that 
he  is  distinguished  for  his  eloquence.  But  the 
same  authors  tell  us,  that  his  language,  the  ve 
hicle  of  the  supposed  eloquence,  can  express  on 
ly  material  ideas.f  ISTow,  if  we  knew  no  more 
of  his  character  than  this,  we  should  be  author 
ized  to  infer  (what  is,  indeed,  true),  that  he  pos 
sesses  no  standard  for  the  distinction  of  good 
and  evil,  and  that  his  imagination  is  bounded 
by  the  lines  of  his  sensible  experience.  How 
any  degree  of  eloquence  can  be  compatible 
with  this  state  of  things,  passes  comprehension. 
And  what  reflection  would  conclude,  a  little 
examination  will  confirm.  The  mistake  has, 
doubtless,  grown  out  of  a  misconception  of  the 

*  Flint's  Geography,  p.  108. 

f  "All  ideas  are  expressed  by  .figures  addressed  to  the 
senses."  Warburton,  vol.  i.,  p.  175.  Bancroft,  ut  supra. 


THE   INDIAN.  35 

nature  of  eloquence  itself.*  If  eloquence  were 
B&  figure  —  even  if  it  were,  in  any  considerable 
degree,  mere  figure  —  then  the  tawdriest  rhet 
orician  would  be  the  greatest  orator.  But  it  is 
not  so.  On  the  contrary,  the  use  of  many 
words  (or  figures)  to  express  an  idea,  denotes 
not  command  of  language,  but  the  absence  of 
that  power — just  as  the  employment  of  numer 
ous  tools,  to  effect  a  physical  object,  indicates, 
not  skill  in  the  branch  of  physics,  to  which  the 
object  belongs,  but  rather  awkwardness.  Of 
course,  much  must  be  placed,  in  both  cases,  to 
the  account  of  clumsy  instruments ;  but  the 
instrument  of  speech  differs  from  others  in  this  : 
it  is  fashioned  5y,  as  well  as/b/1,  its  use  ;  and  a 
rude,  unpolished  language  is,  therefore,  an  in 
dex,  in  two  ways,  of  the  want  of  eloquence 
among  the  people  who  employ  it. 

In  this  view,  the  figurative  elocution  of  the  In 
dian,  so  far  from  affording  evidence  of  oratori 
cal  power,  if  it  proves  anything,  proves  the  op 
posite.  It  is  the  barrenness  of  his  language, 
and  not  the  luxuriance  of  his  imagination, 
which  enforces  that  mode  of  speech,  f  Irnagi- 

*  See  Bancroft,  Hunter,  Catlin,  Flint,  Jefferson,  <fcc.— passim 
— all  supporters  of  Indian  eloquence,  but  all  informing  us,  that 
"  combinations  of  material  objects  were  his  only  means  of  ex 
pressing  abstract  ideas." 

f  Vide  Bancroft's  United  Stnte*,  vol.  iii..  pp.  257,  266,  etc. 


36  WESTERN    CHAKACTEKS. 

nation  is  the  first  element  of  oratory,  simplicity 
its  first  condition.  We  have  seen  that  the  In 
dian  is  wholly  destitute  of  the  former;  and  the 
stilted,  meretricious,  and  ornate  style,  of  even 
his  ordinary  communications,  entirely  excludes 
the  latter  from  our  conception  of  his  character.* 
For  example :  take  the  expressions  "  bury 
the  hatchet,"  for  "make  peace,"  and  "a  cloud 
less  sky,"  for  "prosperity" — the  latter  being 
the  nearest  approximation  to  an  abstract  idea 
observed  in  Indian  oratory.  Upon  examining 
these,  and  kindred  forms  of  speech,  we  shall  at 
once  perceive  that  they  are  not  the  result  of 
imagination,  but  are  suggested  by  material 
analogies.  Peace,  to  the  savage,  is,  at  best, 
but  a  negative  idea  ;  and  the  state  of  peaceful- 
ness,  abstracted  from  the  absence  of  war,  finds 
no  corresponding  word  in  his  language.  Even 
friendship  only  means  that  relation,  in  which 
friends  may  be  of  use  to  each  other.  As  his 
dialects  are  all  synthetic,f  his  ideas  are  all  con- 

*  E.  &.  "  They  style  themselves  the  '  beloved  of  the  Great 
Spirit.'" — Warburton,  vol.  i.,  p.  186.  "In  the  Iroquois  lan 
guage,  the  Indians  gave  themselves  the  appellation  of  '  Angou- 
conoue,  or  'Men  of  Always.'" — Chateaubriand's  Travels  in 
America,  vol.  ii.,  p.  92.  Note,  also,  their  exaggerated  boast- 
fulness,  even  in  their  best  speeches:  "Logan  never  knew 
fear,"  <fec. 

\  "The  absence  of  all  reflective  consciousness,  and  of  all 


THE   INDIAN".  37 

crete.  To  say,  "7  love"  without  expressing 
what  or  whom  I  love,  would  be,  so  to  speak, 
very  bad  Indian  grammar.  He  can  not  even 
say  "  two"  correctly,  without  applying  the  nu 
meral  to  some  object.  The  notion  of  absolute 
being,  number,  emotion,  feeling,  posture,  or  re 
lation,  is  utterly  foreign  to  his  mode  of  thought 
and  speech. 

So,  also,  of  the  "  cloudless  sky,"  used  to  ex 
press  a  state  of  prosperity.  He  does  not  mean, 
by  the  phrase,  the  serenity  of  mind  which  pros 
perity  produces,  nor  any  other  abstract  inflexion 
or  suggestion  of  the  figure.  He  is  constantly  ex 
posed  to  the  storms  of  heaven,  in* the  chase,  and 
on  the  war  path ;  and,  even  in  his  best  "lodge," 
he  finds  but  little  shelter  from  their  fury.  Clear 
weather  is,  therefore,  grateful  to  him — bright 
sunshine  associates  itself,  in  his  mind,  with  com 
fort,  or  (that  supremest  of  Indian  pleasures) 
undisturbed  indolence.  And  the  transition, 
though,  as  we  have  said,  an  approach  to  an 
abstract  conception,  is  easy,  even  to  the*  mind 
of  a  savage.  His  employment  of  such  illustra 
tions  is  rather  an  evidence  of  rudeness,  than  of 
eloquence  —  of  barrenness,  than  of  luxuriance 
of  idea.* 

logical  analysis  of  ideas,  is  the  great  peculiarity  of  American 
speech." — Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  257. 

*  Warburton's  Conquest  of  Canada,  vol.  i.,  p.  180. 


38  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

From  these  considerations,  it  results,  that 
even  the  very  best  specimens  of  Indian  ora 
tory,  deserve  the  name  of  picturesque,  rather 
than  of  eloquent  —  two  characteristics  which 
bear  no  greater  affinity  to  each  other,  than  do 
the  picture-writing  of  the  Aztec  and  the  alpha 
betical  system  of  the  Greek.  The  speech  of 
Logan  —  the  most  celebrated  of  Indian  har 
angues  —  even  if  genuine,*  is  but  a  feeble  sup 
port  to  the  theory  of  savage  eloquence.  It  is 
a  mixture  of  the  lament  and  the  song  of  tri 
umph,  which  may  be  found  in  equal  perfection 
among  all  barbarous  people  ;  but,  so  far  as  we 
are  aware,  was*  never  elsewhere  dignified  with 
that  sounding  name.  The  slander  of  a  brave 
and  honorable  man,f  which  it  contains,  might 

*  I  have  seen  it  hinted,  though  I  have  forgotten  where,  that 
Jefferson,  and  not  Logan,  was  the  author  of  this  speech  ;  but  the 
extravagant  manner  in  which  Jefferson  himself  praises  it,  seems 
to  exclude  the  suspicion.  "I  may  challenge  the  whole  orations 
of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,"  he  says,  "and  of  any  other  more 
eminent  orator,  if  Europe  has  furnished  more  eminent,  to  pro 
duce  a  single  passage  superior  to  the  speech  of  Logan  !"  Praise 
certainly  quite  high  enough,  for  a  mixture  of  lamentation  and 
boastful  ness. 

f  The  evidence  in  this  matter  has  long  ago  been  thoroughly 
sifted  ;  and  it  is  now  certain  that,  so  far  from  being  present  aid 
ing  at  the  massacre  of  Logan's  family,  Colonel  Cresap  earnestly 
endeavored  to  dissuade  the  party  from  its  purpose.  And  yet  the 
falsehood  is  perpetuated  even  in  the  common  school-books  of 


THE   INDIAN.  39 

be  the  result  of  a  mistake  easily  made  ;  the 
wrongs  of  which  this  chief  was  the  victim, 
might  render  even  a  savage  eloquent;  and  the 
mixture  of  bloody  vaunting  with  profound 
grief,  is  scarcely  to  be  expected  in  any  'but  a 
savage.  "  Logan  never  knew  fear,"  he  says  ; 
"he  would  not  turn  on  his  heel  to  save  his 
life."  This  species  of  boasting  is  perfectly  in 
keeping  with  the  Indian  character;  but  the' 
pathetic  reason  for  this  carelessness,  which 
follows  —  "There  is  no  one  to  mourn  for  Lo 
gan"-  —  is  one  not  likely  to  have  occurred  to  an 
Indian,  even  in  his  circumstances.  And,  grant 
ing  that  the  expression  was  used  by  the  orator, 
and  not  (as  it  seems  probable  it  was)  added  by 
Jefferson,  it  is,  I  believe,  the  only  example  on 
record  of  poetical  feeling  in  any  Indian  speech. 

The  religion  of  the  Indian  has  given  as  much 
troublesome  material  to  the  builders  of  sys 
tems,  as  has  been  furnished  by  all  his  other 
characteristics  combined.  The  first  explorers 
of  America  supposed  that  they  had  found  a 
people,  quite  destitute  of  any  religious  belief. 
But  faith  in  a  higher  power  than  that  of  man, 

the  country,  while  its  object  has  been  mouldering  in  his  grave 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century. —  Western  Annals,  p.  147.  Ameri 
can  Pioneer,  vol.  i.,  p.  7,  et  seq. 


40  WESTERN    CIIAKACTEK3. 

is  a  necessity  of  the  human  mind ;  and  its  or 
ganization,  more  or  less  enlightened,  is  as  natu 
ral,  even  to  the  most  degraded  savage,  as  the 
formation  of  his  language.  Both  depend  upon 
general  laws,  common  to  the  intellect  of  all 
races  of  men  ;  both  are  affected  by  the  external 
circumstances  of  climate,  situation,  and  mode 
of  life ;  and  the  state  of  one  may  always  be  de- 
•termined  by  that  of  the  other.  "No  savage 
horde  has  been  caught  with  its  language  in  a 
state  of  chaos,  or  as  if  just  emerging  from  the 
rudeness  of  undistinguishable  sounds.  Each 
appears,  not  as  a  slow  formation  by  painful  pro 
cesses  of  invention,  but  as  a  perfect  whole, 
springing  directly  from  the  powers  of  man.""* 
And  though  this  rigor  of  expression  is  not 
equally  applicable  to  the  Indian's  religion,  the 
fact  is  attributable  solely  to  the  difference  in 
nature  of  the  subjects.  As  the  "primary  sounds 
of  a  language  are  essentially  the  same  every 
where,"  the  impulses  and  instincts  of  piety  are 
common  to  all  minds.  But,  as  the  written  lan 
guage  of  the  Indian  was  but  the  pictorial  repre 
sentation  of  visible  objects,  having  no  metaphys 
ical  signification,  so  the  symbols  of  his  religion, 
the  objects  of  his  adoration,  were  drawn  from 

*  Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  254. 


THE   INDIAN.  41 

external  nature.*  Even  his  faith-  in  the  Great 
Spirit  is  a  graft  upon  his  system,  derived  from 
the  first  missionaries  ;f  and,  eagerly  as  he  adopt 
ed  it,  it  is  probable  that  its  meaning,  to  him,  is  lit 
tle  more  exalted,  than  that  of  the  "  Great  Bea 
ver,"  which  he  believes  to  be  the  first  progenitor, 
if  not  the  actual  creator,  of  that  useful  animal. 
We  often  see  the  fact,  that  the  Indian  be 
lieves  in  his  manitou,  cited  as  an  evidence, 
that  he  has  the  conception  of  a  spiritual  divin 
ity.  But  the  word  never  conveyed  such  a 
meaning  ;  it  is  applicable  more  properly  to  ma 
terial  objects,  and  answers,  with,  if  possible,  a 
more  intense  and  superstitious  significance,  to 
the  term  amulet.  The  Indian's  manitou  might 
be,  indeed  always  was,  some  wild  animal,  or 
some  part  of  a  beast  or  bird  —  such  as  a  bear's 
claw,  a  buffalo's  hoof,  or  a  dog's  tooth.J  And, 
though  he  ascribed  exalted  powers  to  this  primi 
tive  guardian,  it  must  be  remembered  that 

*  Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  285. — "  The  God  of  the  savage  was  what 
the  metaphysician  endeavors  to  express  by  the  word  substance" 
But  the  Indian's  idea  of  substance  was  altogether  concrete. 

\  The  best  authority  upon  this  subject  is  found  in  the  Jesuit 
"  Relaciones :"  but  it  is  at  least  probable,  that  the  preconcep 
tions  of  the  good  Fathers  colored,  and,  perhaps,  shaped,  many 
of  the  religious  wonders  there  related. 

\  "Lettres  Edifiantes,"  vol.  vi.,  p.  200,  et  scq.  Warburton, 
vol.  i.,  p.  187. 


42  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

these  powers  were  only  physical  —  such,  for  ex 
ample,  as  would  enable  it  to  protect  its  devotee 
from  the  knife  of  his  enemy,  or  give  him  suc 
cess  in  hunting. 

Materialism,  then,  reigns  in  the  religion,  as 
in  the  language,  of  the  Indian  ;  and  its  effects 
are  what  might  be  expected.  His  whole  system 
is  a  degraded  and  degrading  superstition ;  and, 
though  it  has  been  praised  for  its  superior 
purity,  over  that  of  the  ancients,  it  seems  to 
have  been  forgotten,  that  this  purity  is  only  the 
absence  of  one  kind  of  impurity  :  and  that  its 
cruel  and  corrupting  influences,  of  another  sort, 
are  ten-fold  greater  than  those  of  the  Greek 
mythology.  The  faith  of  the  Greek  embodied 
itself  in  forms,  ceremonies,  and  observances  — 
regularly  appointed  religious  rites  kept  his  piety 
alive ;  the  erection  of  grand  temples,  in  honor 
of  his  deity,  whatever  might  be  his  conception 
of  that  deity's  character,  attested  his  genuine 
devotion,  and  held  constantly  before  his  mind 
the  abstract  idea  of  a  higher  power.  The  In 
dian,  before  the  coming  of  the  white  man,  erect 
ed  no  temples*  in  honor  of  his  divinities;  for  he 

*  The  extravagant  stories  told  of  the  Natchez  Indians  (among 
•whom  there  was  said  to  be  a  remarkable  temple  for  worship) 
are  quite  incredible,  even  if  tlipy  had  nol.  been  disproved 


THE   INDIAN.  43 

venerated  them  only  so  long  as  they  conferred 
physical  benefits'*  upon  him ;  and  his  idea  of 
beneficence  was  wholly  concrete.  He  had  no 
established  form  of  worship ;  the  ceremonies, 
which  partook  of  a  religious  character,  were 
grotesque  in  their  conception,  variable  in  their 
conduct,  and  inhuman  in  their  details.  Such, 
for  example,  are  the  torturing  of  prisoners,  and 
the  ceremonies  observed  on  the  occasion  of  a 
young  Indian's  placing  himself  under  his  guar 
dian  power. 

The  dogmas  of  the  Indian  religion,  until  vari 
ed  by  the  teaching  of  missionaries,  were  few 
and  simple  —  being  circumscribed,  like  every 
thing  else  belonging  to  him,  by  the  material 
world.  He  believed  in  a  good  spirit,  and  an 
evil  spirit;  but  his  conception  was  limited  by 
the  ideas  of  benefit  or  injury,  to  himself '/  in 
deed,  it  may  safely  be  doubted,  whether  the 
word  "  spirit,"  in  its  legitimate  sense,  is  at  all 
applicable  to  his  belief.  "  Power  in  a  state  of 
exertion,"  is  the  more  accurate  description  of 

*  When  the  manitou  of  the  Indian  has  failed  to  give  him 
success  in  the  chase,  or  protection  from  danger,  "he  upbraids 
it  with  bitterness  and  contempt,  and  threatens  to  seek  a  more 
effectual  protector.  If  the  manitou  continues  useless,  this 
threat  is  fulfilled."  Warb.  ut  supra.  Vide,  also,  Catlin's 
"American  Indians,"  vol.  i.,  p.  36,  et  seq. 


44  WESTERN   CHAEACTEES. 

his  imperfect  notion :  abstract  existence  he 
never  conceived;  the  verb  "  to  be"  except  as 
relating  to  time,  place,  and  action,  had  no 
meaning  in  his  language.*  He  believed,  also, 
in  subordinate  powers  of  good  and  evil ;  but, 
since  his  life  was  occupied  more  in  averting 
danger  and  calamity,  than  in  seeking  safety 
or  happiness,  he  paid  far  more  respect  to  the 
latter  than  to  the  former  —  he  prayed  oftener 
and  more  fervently  to  the  devils,  than  to  the 
angels.  His  clearest  notion  of  divinity,  was 
that  of  a  being  able  to  injure  him ;  and,  in  this 
sense,  his  devotion  might  be  given  to  man, 
bird,  or  beast. 

There  seems  to  be  no  doubt,  that  he  believed 
in  a  sort  of  immortality,  even  before  the  mis 
sionaries  visited  his  country.  But  it  was  not  so 
much  a  new  state  of  existence,  as  a  continuation 
of  present  life.f  He  killed  horses  upon  the 
grave  of  the  departed  warrior,  that  he  might 
be  mounted  for  his  long  journey  ;  and  buffalo 
meat  and  roasted  maize  were  buried  with  him, 

*  Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  253. 

•j-  "  He  calls  it  [the  soul]  the  shadow  or  image  of  his  body,  hut 
its  acts  and  enjoyments  are  all  the  same  as  those  of  its  earthly 
existence.  He  only  pictures  to  himself  a  continuation  of  pres 
ent  pleasures."  "Warh.  vol.  i.,  p.  190.  Vide,  also,  Catlin's  "Amer 
ican  Indians,"  vol.  i.,  p.  158,  et  seq. 


THE   INDIAN.  4:5 

that  he  might  not  suffer  from  hunger.*  On 
arriving  in  the  land  of  the  blest,  he  believed, 
that  the  dead  pursued  the  game  of  that  country, 
as  he  had  done  in  this;  and  the  highest  felicity 
of  which  he  conceived,  was  the  liberty  to  hunt 
unmolested  by  the  war-parties  of  his  enemies. 
Heaven  was,  therefore,  in  his  conception,  only 
a  more  genial  earth,  and  its  inheritors  but  keen 
er  sportsmen. 

That  this  idea  of  immortality  involved  that 
of  accountability,  in  some  form,  seems  to  admit 
of  no  doubt ;  but  this  doctrine,  like  almost  all 
others  belonging  to  the  primitive  savage,  has 
been  moulded  to  its  present  definite  shape,  by 
the  long-continued  labors  of  Christian  mission 
aries,  f  He  believed,  indeed,  that  the  bad  In 
dians  never  reached  the  happy  hunting-grounds, 
but  the  distinction  between  the  good  and  the 
bad,  in  his  mind,  was  not  at  all  clear;  and, 
since  the  idea  of  the  passage  across  the  gulf  of 

*  The  Indian  never  believed  in  the  resurrection  of  the  body; 
but  even  corn  and  venison  were  supposed  to  possess  a  spirit, 
which  the  spirit  of  the  dead  warrior  might  eat. — Jesuit  "  Rela 
tion"  1633,  p.  54. 

f  "  The  idea  of  retribution,"  says  Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  299,  "  as 
far  as  it  has  found  its  way  among  them,  was  derived  from 
Europeans."  And  the  same  remark  may  be  made,  of  most  of 
the  other  wonders,  in  which  enthusiastic  travellers  have  dis 
covered  coincidences  with  Christianity. 


46  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

death  most  prevalent  among  all  tribes,  is  that 
of  a  narrow  bridge,  over  which  only  steady 
nerves  and  sure  feet  may  carry  the  wanderer, 
it  seems  probable  that  the  line  was  drawn  be 
tween  the  brave  warrior  and  the  successful  hun 
ter,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  coward  and  the 
unskilful,  on  the  other.  If  these  views  be  cor 
rect,  the  inferences  to  be  drawn  from  the  In 
dian's  belief  in  immortality  and  accountability, 
are  of  but  slender  significance. 

Corrupt  manners  and  degrading  customs  nev 
er  exist,  in  conjunction  with  a  pure  religious 
system.  The  outlines  of  social  institutions  are 
metaphysically  coincident  with  the  limits  of 
piety ;  and  the  refinement  of  morals  depends 
upon  the  purity  of  faith.  We  may  thus  deter 
mine  the  prevailing  spirit  of  a  national  religion, 
by  observation  of  domestic  manners  and  habits  ; 
and,  among  all  the  relations  of  life,  that  of  parent 
and  child  is  the  best  index  to  degree  of  advance 
ment.  Filial  piety  is  but  the  secondary  mani 
festation  of  a  devotional  heart ;  and  attachment 
and  obedience  to  a  father  on  earth,  are  only  im 
perfect  demonstrations  of  love  to  our  Father  in 
heaven.  What,  then  —  to  apply  the  principle 
—  is  the  state  of  this  sentiment  in  the  Indian? 
Ey  the  answer  to  that  question,  we  shall  be  able 


THE    INDIAN.  4:7 

to  estimate  the  value  of  his  religious  notions, 
and  to  determine  the  amount  of  hope,  for  his 
conversion,  justified  by  their  possession.  The 
answer  may  be  given  in  a  few  words  :  There 
is  no  such  sentiment  in  the  Indian  character. 
Children  leave  their  infirm  parents  to  die  alone, 
and  be  eaten  by  the  wolves  ;*  or  treat  them 
with  violent  indignity, f  when  the  necessity 
of  migration  gives  no  occasion  for  this  barbar 
ous  desertion.  Young  savages  have  been  known 
to  beat  their  parents,  and  even  to  kill  them ; 
but  the  display  of  attachment  or  reverence  for 
them,  is  quite  unknown.  Like  the  beast  of  the 
forest,  they  are  no  sooner  old  enough  to  care 
for  themselves,  than  they  cease  even  to  remem 
ber,  by  whose  care  they  have  become  so ;  and 
the  slightest  provocation  will  produce  a  quarrel 
with  a  father,  as  readily  as  with  a  stranger. 
The  unwritten  law  of  the  Indian,  about  which 
so  many  writers  have  dreamed,  enacts  no  higher 
penalty  for  parricide,  than  for  any  other  homi 
cide  ;  and  a  command  to  honor  his  father  and 
mother  because  they  are  his  father  and  mother, 
would  strike  the  mind  of  an  Indian  as  simply 
absurd. 

*  James's  "Expedition,"  vol.  i.,  p.  237.— Catlin's  "American 
Indians"  vol.  i.,  pp.  216-18.  The  latter  is  a  zealous  apologist 
for  Indian  cruelties  and  barbarisms. 

f  "  Conquest  of  Canada"  vol.  i.,  pp.  194-5. 


48  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

If  the  possession  of  a  religion,  whose  fruits 
are  no  better  than  these,  can,  of  itself,  give 
ground  for  hope  to  the  Christian  philanthropist, 
let  him  cherish  it  fondly.  But  it  is  much  to  be 
feared,  that  the  existence  of  such  a  system 
indefinitely  postpones,  if  it  does  not  entirely 
preclude,  the  Indian's  conversion.  Even  a 
bird  which  has  never  known  the  forest,  will 
eventually  escape  to  the  wilds  which  God  has 
made  its  home  ;  and  the  young  Indian,  who 
has  been  reared  in  the  city,  will  fly  to  the  wroods 
and  prairies,  and  return  to  the  faith  of  his  fa 
thers,  because  these,  and  only  these,  will  satisfy 
his  nature.* 

A  theme  of  praise,  in  itself  more  just,  has 
been  the  Indian's  courage ;  but  the  same  cir 
cumstances  of  poetical  interest,  which  have 
magnified  men's  views  of  his  other  qualities, 

*  The  following  may  serve  to  indicate  the  sort  of  impression 
of  Christianity  which  even  the  most  earnest  and  enlightened 
preaching  has  been  able  to  make  upon  the  Indian  mind  :  "Here 
I  saw  a  most  singular  union ;  one  of  the  [Indian]  graves  was 
surmounted  by  a  cross,  while  close  to  it  a  trunk  of  a  tree  was 
raised,  covered  with  hieroglyphics,  recording  the  number  of 
enemies  slain  by  the  tenant  of  the  tomb.  Here  presenting  a 
hint  to  those  who  are  fond  of  system-making  on  the  religion 
of  these  people,"  &c. — Beltrami's  Pilgrimage,  &c.,  vol.  ii.,  p. 
307.  Bancroft's  United  States,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  303-4.  Flint's 
Geography,  pp.  109,  126. 


THE    INDIAN.  49 

have  contributed  to  exaggerate  this  also.  If 
calm  steadiness  of  nerve,  in  the  moment  of  ac 
tion,  be  an  element  in  true  courage,  that  of  the 
primitive  savage  was  scarcely  genuine.  In 
all  his  battles,  there  were  but  two  possible  as 
pects — the  furious  onset,  and  the  panic  re 
treat  :  the  firmness  which  plants  itself  in  line 
or  square,  and  stubbornly  contends  for  victory, 
was  no  part  of  his  character.  A  check,  to  him, 
always  resulted  in  a  defeat;  and,  though  this 
might,  in  some  measure,  be  the  consequence 
of  that  want  of  discipline,  which  is  incident  to 
the  savage  state,  the  remark  applies  with  equal 
justice,  whether  he  fought  singly  or  in  a  body. 
"He  was  easily  panic-struck,  because  the  im 
pulse  of  the  forward  movement  was  necessary 
to  keep  him  strung  to  effort ;  and  the  retrograde 
immediately  became  a  rout,  because  daring, 
without  constancy,  collapses  with  the  first  re 
action. 

Notwithstanding  the  enervating  influences 
attributed  to  refinement  and  luxury,  genuine, 
steady  courage  is  one  of  the  fruits  borne  by  a 
high  civilization.  It  is  the  result  of  combina 
tion,  thought,  and  the  divinity  which  attaches 
to  the  cultivated  man.  And,  though  it  may 
seem  rather  unfair  to  judge  a  savage  by  the 
rulea  of  civilization,  it  has  long  been  received 
3 


50  Wl-STEEX   CHABACTEBS. 

as  a  canon,  that  true  valor  bears  an  inverse  ra 
tio  to  ferocious  cruelty.  Of  all  people  yet  dis 
covered  upon  earth,  the  Indian  is  the  most 
ferocious.  We  must,  therefore,  either  vary  the 
meaning  of  the  word,  when  applied  to  different 
people,  or  deny  the  savage  the  possession  of 
any  higher  bravery,  than  that  which  lives  only 
through  the  onset. 

Cunning  supplied  the  place  of  the  nobler 
quality;  the  object  of  his  warfare  was  to  over 
come  by  wily  stratagem,  rather  than  by  open 
combat.  "  Skill  consisted  in  surprising  the 
enemy.  They  followed  his  trail,  to  kill  him 
when  he  slept ;  t>r  they  lay  in  ambush  near  a 
village,  and  watched  for  an  opportunity  of  sud 
denly  surprising  an  individual,  or,  it  might  be, 
a  woman  and  her  children ;  and,  with  three 
strokes  to  each,  the  scalps  of  the  victims  being 
suddenly  taken  off,  the  brave  flew  back  with 
his  companions,  to  hang  the  trophies  in  his 
cabin."*  If  they  succeeded  in  taking  prison 
ers,  it  was  only  that  they  might  be  reserved 
for  the  most  infernal  torments,  and  the  gratifi 
cation  of  a  brutal  ferocity,  not  the  trial  and 
admiration  of  the  victim's  courage,  was  the 
purpose  of  their  infliction.-)- 

*  Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  281. 

f  "To  inflict  blows  that  can  not  be  returned,"  says  this  his- 


THE   INDIAN.  51 

The  fortitude  of  the  Indian  under  suffering, 
has  often  been  referred  to,  in  evidence  of 
moral  courage.  And  it  is  certainly  true,  that 
the  display  so  frequently  made  of  triumph  in 
the  hour  of  death  by  torture,  indicates,*  in 
part,  an  elevation  of  character,  seldom  found 
among  more  civilized  men.  It  is,  however, 
the  elevation  of  a  barbarian ;  and  its  manifes 
tations  are  as  much  the  fruit  of  impotent 
rage,  as  of  a  noble  fortitude.  The  prisoner  at 
the  stake  knows  that  there  is  no  escape ;  and 
his  intense  hatred  of  his  enemies  takes  the  form 
of  a  wish,  to  deprive  them  of  a  triumph.  "While 
his  flesh  is  crisping  and  crackling  in  the  flames, 
therefore,  he  sings  of  the  scalps  he  has  taken, 
and  heaps  opprobrious  epithets  upon  the  heads 
of  his  tormentors.  But  his  song  is  as  much  a 
cry  of  agony,  as  of  exultation  —  his  pain  only 
adopts  this  mode  of  expression.  It  is  quite  cer 
tain,  also,  that  he  does  not  suffer  so  deeply,  as 
would  a  white  man  in  the  same  circumstances. 
By  long  exposure,  and  the  endurance  of  hard- 

torian  (Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  282),  "  is  a  proof  of  full  success, 
and  the  entire  humiliation  of  the  enemy.  It  is,  moreover,  an 
experiment  of  courage  and  patience."  But  we  think  such 
things  as  much  mere  brutality,  as  triumph. 

*  The  frequent  change  of  tense  in  this  article,  refers  to  those 
circumstances  in  which  the  present  differs  from  the  past  char 
acter  of  the  Indian. 


52  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

ships  incident  to  his  savage  life,  his  body  ac 
quires  an  insensibility  akin  to  that  of  wild  ani 
mals.*  His  nerves  do  not  shrink  or  betray  a 
tendency  to  spasm,  even  when  a  limb  is  ampu 
tated.  Transmitted  from  one  generation  to  an 
other,  this  physical  nature  has  become  a  pecu 
liarity  of  the  race.  And  when  assisted  by  the 
fierce  hatred  above  referred  to,  it  is  not  at  all 
strange  that  it  should  enable  him  to  bear  with 
fortitude,  tortures  which  would  conquer  the 
firmness  of  the  most  resolute  white  man.f 

The  Indian's  dignified  stoicism  has  been  as 
much  exaggerated,  as  his  courage  and  forti 
tude.  It  is  not  quite  true  that  he  never  ex 
presses  surprise,  or  becomes  loquacious.  But 
he  has  a  certain  stern  impassibility  of  feature 
—  a  coldness  of  manner — which  have  been  mis 
taken  for  dignity.  His  immobility  of  counte 
nance,  however,  may  be  the  effect  of  sluggish 
sensibilities,  or  even  of  dull  perceptions  ;J  and 

*  It  is  to  be  doubted,  whether  some  part  of  this  vaunted 
stoicism  be  not  the  result  of  a  more  than  ordinary  degree  of 
physical  insensibility." — Flint's  Geography,  vol.  i.,  p.  114. 

f  Many  white  men,  however,  have  endured  the  utmost  ex 
tremities  of  Indian  cruelty.  See  cases  of  Brebeuf,  and  Lalle- 
mand,  in  Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  140. 

\  "It  is  intellectual  culture  which  contributes  most  to  diversi 
fy  the  features."— HumboldCs  Personal  Narrative^ol.  iii.,  p.  228. 


THE  INDIAN.  53 

the  same  savage  vanity,  which  leads  him  to 
make  a  display  of  strength  or  agility  before 
friend  or  enemy,  prevents  his  acknowledging 
ignorance,  by  betraying  surprise.*  We  have 
been  in  company  with  Indians  from  the  Far 
West,  while  they  saw  a  railroad  for  the  first 
time.  When  they  thought  themselves  unno 
ticed,  they  were  as  curious  about  the  singular 
machinery  of  the  locomotive,  and  as  much  ex 
cited  by  the  decorations  and  appointments  of 
the  cars,  as  the  most  ignorant  white  man.  But 
the  moment  they  discovered  that  their  move 
ments  were  observed,  they  resumed  their  dig 
nified  composure ;  and,  if  you  had  judged  of 
the  Indian  country  by  their  subsequent  deport 
ment,  you  might  have  believed  that  the  vast 
prairies  of  the  Missouri  were  everywhere  inter 
sected  by  railroads — that  the  Indian  had,  in 
fact,  never  known  any  other  mode  of  travel 
ling.  "  On  first  seeing  a  steamboat,  however," 
says  Flint,  who  well  understands  his  character, 
"  he  never  represses  his  customary  '  Ugh  /' ' 

Generally,  among  white  men,  he  who  is  fond 
est  of  inflicting  pain,  is  least  able  to  endure  it. 

*  "  They  have  probably  as  much  curiosity  [as  the  white], 
but  a  more  stern  perseverance  in  repressing  it." — Flints  Geog 
raphy,  vol.  i,  p.  124. 


54  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

But  the  Indian  reverses  almost  all  the  princi 
ples,  which  apply  to  civilized  life;  and,  ac 
cordingly,  we  find  that,  with  all  his  so-called 
fortitude,  he  is  the  most  intensely  cruel  of  all 
living  men.  Before  possession  of  the  continent 
was  taken  by  Europeans,  war  was  more  con 
stantly  the  occupation  of  his  life,  than  it  has 
been  since  ;  but  even  now  his  only  object  in 
taking  his  enemies  alive,  is  to  subject  them  to 
the  most  inhuman  tortures.*  And  in  these 
brutal  orgies,  the  women  are  most  active,  even 
taking  the  lead,  in  applying  the  cord  and  the 
brand. f  Nor  is  this  cruelty  confined  to  ene 
mies,  as  the  practice  of  leaving  the  aged  and 
infirm  to  die  of  starvation  sufficiently  proves. 

And  his  treachery  is  equal  to  his  cruelty. 
!N"o  treaty  can  bind  him  longer  than  superior 
force  compels  him  to  observe  it.  The  discovery 
that  his  enemy  is  unprepared  for  an  attack,  is 
sufficient  reason  to  him  for  making  it ;  his  only 
object  in  concluding  peace,  is  to  secure  an  ad- 

*  "The  enemy  is  assailed  with  treachery,  and,  if  conquered, 
treated  with  revolting  cruelty."  *  *  "A  fiendish  ferocity 
assumes  full  sway." — Conquest  of  Canada,  vol.  i.,  p.  206. 

f  It  is  perhaps  not  very  remarkable,  however,  that  the  wo 
men  are  most  cruel  to  the  aged  and  infirm  —  the  young  and 
vigorous  being  sometimes  adopted  by  them,  to  console  them 
for  the  loss  of  those  who  have  fallen. — Idem,  p.  210. 


THE    INDIAN.  55 

vantage  in  war ;  and  before  the  prospect  of  a 
bloody  inroad,  his  faith  melts  away,  like  snow 
before  the  sun.  The  claims  of  gratitude  he  sel 
dom  acknowledges ;  he  cherishes  the  memory 
of  a  benefit,  only  until  he  finds  an  opportunity 
of  repaying  it  with  an  injury  ;  and  forbearance 
to  avenge  the  latter,  only  encourages  its  repeti 
tion.*  The  numerous  pretty  stories  published 
of  Indian  gratitude,  are  either  exceptional 
cases,  or  unmixed  romances. 

There  have  been  some  tribes  of  Indians  in  a 
measure  reclaimed  from  their  state  of  barbar 
ism  ;  the  Cherokees,  I  believe,  (and  perhaps  one 
or  two  other  nations,)  have  even  increased  in 
numbers,  under  the  influence  of  civilization.  But 
this  is  the  result  of  numerous  favorable  causes 
combined,  and  proves  nothing,  from  which  to 
infer  the  Indian's  docility.  Other  savages,  on 
coming  in  contact  with  civilized  men,  have  dis 
covered  a  disposition  to  acquire  some  of  the 
useful  arts  — their  comforts  have  been  increased, 
their  sufferings  diminished,  and  their  condition 
ameliorated,  by  the  grafting  of  new  ideas  upon 

*  "  "We  consider  them  a  treacherous  people,  easily  swayed 
from  their  purpose,  paying  their  court  to  the  divinity  of  good 
fortune,  and  always  ready  to  side  with  the  strongest.  "We 
should  not  rely  upon  their  feelings  of  to-day,  as  any  pledge 
for  what  they  will  be  to-raorrow"— Flint's  Geography,  vol.  i., 
p.  120. 


56  WESTEEX   CHARACTERS. 

the  old.  But,  between  the  red  man  and  the 
white,  contiguity  has  brought  about  little  more 
than  an  exchange  of  vices. 

Almost  the  only  things  coveted  by  the  "red 
skin"  from  the  "  paleface,"  were  his  arms,  his 
trinkets,  and  his  "firewater."  He  could  appre 
ciate  whatsoever  gave  him  superiority  in  war, 
gratified  his  childish  vanity,  or  ministered  to 
his  brutal  appetite.  But  the  greater  comfort 
of  the  white  man's  house  —  the  higher  excel 
lence  of  his  boat — his  improved  agricultural 
implements  or  extended  learning  —  none  of 
these  things  appealed  to  the  Indian's  passions 
or  desires.  The  arts  of  peace  were  nothing  to 
him  • —  refinement  was  worse  than  nothing.  He 
would  spend  hours  in  decorating  his  person, 
but  not  a  moment  in  cleansing  it :  I  believe 
no  tradition  exists  of  an  Indian  ever  having 
used  soap  or  bought  a  fine-tooth  comb  !  He  is, 
indeed,  a  "  pattern  of  filthiness ;"  but  even  in 
civilized  life,  we  find  that  this  is  not  at  all  in 
compatible  with  an  extravagant  love  of  orna 
ment  ;  and,  in  this  respect,  the  savage  is  not 
behind  his  more  enlightened  brethren  and  sis 
ters.  Beads,  ribands,  and  scarlet  cloth  —  with 
powder  and  lead,  guns,  tomahawks,  and  knives 
—  are  the  acquisitions  which  he  prizes  most 
highly. 


THE   INDIAN.  57 

Pre-eminent,  however,  above  all  these  in  his 
estimation,  is  the  greatest  curse  which  has  yet 
reached  him  —  the  liquid  fire  called  whiskey ! 
He  is,  by  nature,  a  drunkard,  and  the  fury  of 
his  intoxication  equals  the  ferocity  of  his  war 
fare.  "All  words  would  be  thrown  away," 
says  Mr.  Flint,*  "  in  attempting  to  portray,  in 
just  colors,  the  effects  of  whiskey  upon  such  a 
race."  Fire  should  be  kept  away  from  com 
bustibles —  whiskey  from  the  Indian,  and  for 
the  same  reason.  With  drunkenness,  he  pos 
sesses,  also,  its  inseparable  companion,  the  vice 
of  gambling.f  He  is  the  most  inveterate 
gamester :  Before  the  demon  of  avarice  every 
thing  gives  way.  He  even  forgets  his  taciturn 
ity,  in  the  excitement  of  the  game,  and  be 
comes  loquacious  and  eager.  He  will  stake  all 
his  most  valuable  possessions,  and,  losing  these, 
will  even  risk  his  own  liberty,  or  life,  on  the 
turn  of  a  card.  We  were  once  witness  to  a 
game  in  San  Antonio  (in  Western  Texas), 
among  a  party  of  Lipans,^:  a  race  of  fine-looking 
men,  who  range  the  table-lands  north  of  the 

*  "  Geography  of  the  Mississippi  Valley,"  vol.  i.,  p.  121. 

f  "The  Indians  are  immoderately  fond  of  play." — Warbur- 
ton,  vol.  i.,  p.  218. 

\  These  used  cards ;  but  they  have,  among  themselves,  nu 
merous  games  of  chance,  older  than  the  discovery  of  the  con 
tinent 


58  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

sources  of  the  I^ueces.  Two  of  them,  one  the 
handsomest  warrior  among  them,  lost,  first,  the 
money,  which  they  had  just  received  as  the 
price  of  skins,  brought  to  the  city  for  sale.  They 
then  staked,  successively,  their  horses,  their 
arms,  their  mocassins,  and  their  blankets.  The 
"  luck"  wTas  against  them  —  everything  was  lost ; 
and  we  supposed  the  game  was  over.  But 
—  as  a  last  resource,  like  drawing  blood  from 
their  beating  hearts  —  each  produced  a  little 
leathern  'bottle^  containing  whiskey !  And,  as 
if  these  possessed  a  higher  value  than  all  the 
articles  yet  lost,  the  game  went  on  with  in 
creased  interest !  Even  the  potent  "  spirit" 
thus  evoked,  could  not  prevail  upon  Fortune  to 
change  her  face :  the  whiskey  was  lost  with 
the  rest !  Each  rose  to  his  feet,  with  the  usual 
guttural  exclamation,  and,  afoot,  and  unarmed 
as  he  was,  silently  took  his  way  to  the  prairies ; 
while  the  winners  collected  in  a  group,  and 
with  much  glee,  proceeded  to  consume  the 
liquid  poison  so  cheaply  obtained. 

We  come,  finally  to  the  question  of  the  In 
dian's  fate  :  What  is  to  become  of  the  race  ? 
The  answer  presents  no  difficulties,  save  such 
as  grow  out  of  men's  unwillingness  to  look  un 
pleasant  truths  in  the  face.  There  has  been, 


PIHE    INDIAN.  59 

of  late  years,  much  lamentation,  among  our 
own  people,  over  the  gradual  extinction  of 
these  interesting  savages ;  and  in  Europe  we 
have  been  made  the  subject  of  indignant  elo 
quence,  for  (what  those,  who  know  nothing 
about  it,  are  pleased  to  call)  "  our  oppression 
of  the  Indian."  But,  in  the  first  place,  the  de 
cay  of  the  American  races  is  neither  so  rapid 
nor  so  universal,  as  is  generally  supposed;* 
arid,  in  the  second  place,  if  the  fact  were  other 
wise,  we  could,  at  the  worst,  be  charged  only 
with  accelerating  a  depopulation  already  be 
gun.  "  The  ten  thousand  mounds  in  the  Mis 
sissippi  Valley,  the  rude  memorials  of  an  im 
mensely  numerous  former  population,  but,  to 
our  view,  no  more  civilized  than  the  present 
races,  are  proofs  that  the  country  was  depopu 
lated^  when  the  white  man  first  became  ac 
quainted  with  it.  If  we  can  infer  nothing  else 
from  these  mounds,  we  can  clearly  infer,  that 
this  country  once  had  its  millions. "f  What 

*  "  The  Cherokee  and  Mobilian  families  of  nations  are  more 
numerous  now  than  ever." — Bancroft,  vol.  iii.,  p.  253.  In 
speaking  of  this  declamation  about  the  extinction  of  the  race, 
Mr.  Flint  very  pertinently  remarks :  "  One  would  think  it  had 
been  discovered,  that  the  population,  the  improvements,  and 
the  social  happiness  of  our  great  political  edifice,  ought  never 
to  have  been  erected  in  the  place  of  these  habitations  of 
cruelty. ' — Gkography%  vol.  i.,  p.  10*7. 
Idem. 


60  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

had  become  of  this  immense  population  ?  The 
successive  invasions  of  new  hordes  of  barba 
rians  from  the  north,  intestine  wars,  and  the 
law,  that  men  shall  advance  toward  civiliza 
tion,  or  decay  from  the  earth  —  these  are  the 
only  causes  to  which  we  may  ascribe  their  dis 
appearance. 

The  extinction  of  the  Indian  race  is  decreed, 
by  a  law  of  Providence  which  we  can  not  gain 
say.  Barbarism  must  give  way  to  civilization. 
It  is  not  only  inevitable,  but  right,  that  it 
should  be  so.  The  tide  of  empire,  which  has 
been  flowing  since  the  earliest  times,  has  set 
steadily  toward  the  West.  The  Indian  emi 
grated  in  the  wrong  direction :  and  now,  after 
the  lapse  of  many  centuries,  the  descendants  of 
the  first  Asians,  having  girdled  the  globe,  meet 
on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi !  On  the  one 
side,  are  enlightenment,  civilization,  Christian 
ity  :  on  the  other,  darkness,  degradation,  bar 
barism:  and  the  question  arises,  which  shall 
give  way  ?  The  Indian  recedes  :  at  the  rate  of 
seventeen  miles  a  year,*  the  flood  rolls  on  ! 
Already  it  has  reached  the  shores  of  the  Pa 
cific  :  One  century  will  reduce  the  whole  con 
tinent  to  the  possession  of  the  white  man;  and, 

*  This  is  De  Tocqueville's  estimate. — Democracy  in  America, 
voL  ii.,  chap.  10. 


THE   INDIAN.  61 

then,  the  lesson  which  all  history  teaches,  will 
be  again  taught  —  that  two  distinct  races  can 
not  exist  in  the  same  country  on  equal  terms. 
The  weaker  must  be  incorporated  with  the 
stronger  —  or  exterminated.* 

*  "  We  may  as  well  endeavor  to  make  the  setting  sun  stand 
still  on  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  as  attempt  to  ar 
rest  the  final  extermination  of  the  Indian  race  1" —  Merivalc 
on  Colonization — Lecture  19. 

The  principle  stated  in  the  text  will  apply  with  equal  force 
to  the  negro-race ;  and  those  who  will  look  the  facts  firmly  in 
the  face,  can  not  avoid  seeing,  that  the  ultimate  solution  of  the 
problem  of  American  Slavery,  can  be  nothing  but  the  sword. 


II. 

THE  VOTAGEUE. 


"  Spread  out  earth's  holiest  records  here, 
Of  days  and  deeds  to  reverence  dear : 
A  zeal  like  this,  what  pious  legends  tell?" 


THE  shapeless  knight-errantry  of  the  thir 
teenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  rich  as  it  was 
in  romance  and  adventure,  is  not  to  be  com 
pared,  in  any  valuable  characteristic,  to  the 
noiseless  self-devotion  of  the  men  who  first  ex 
plored  the  Western  country.  The  courage  of 
the  knight  was  a  part  of  his  savage  nature  ;  his 
confidence  was  in  the  strength  of  his  own  right 
arm ;  and  if  his  rug'gedness  was  ever  softened 
down  by  gentler  thoughts,  it  was  only  when  he 
asked  forgiveness  for  his  crimes,  or  melted  in 
sensual  idolatry  of  female  beauty. 

It  would  be  a  curious  and  instructive  inquiry, 
could  we  institute  it  with  success,  how  much 
of  the  contempt  of  danger  manifested  by  the 
wandering  knight  was  referable  to  genuine 


THE   VOYAGEUK.  63 

valor,  and  what  proportion  to  the  strength  of 
a  Milan  coat,  and  the  temper  of  a  Toledo  or 
Ferrara  blade.  And  it  would  be  still  more 
curious,  although  perhaps  not  so  instructive,  to 
estimate  the  purity  and  fidelity  of  the  heroines 
of  chivalry  ;  to  ascertain  the  amount  of  true  de 
votion  given  them  by  their  admirers,  "  without 
hope  of  reward." 

But  without  abating  its  interest  by  invidious 
and  ungrateful  inquiries,  we  can  see  quite  enough 
— in  its  turbulence,  its  cruelty,  arrogance,  and 
oppression — to  make  us  thank  Heaven  that 
"the  days  of  chivalry  are  gone."  And  from 
that  chaotic  scene  of  rapine,  raid,  and  murder, 
we  can  turn  with  pleasure  to  contemplate  the 
truer,  nobler  chivalry — the  chivalry  of  love  arid 
peace,  whose  weapons  were  the  kindness  of 
their  hearts,  the  purity  of  their  motives,  and 
the  self-denial  of  their  lives. 

The  term  "  voyageur"  *  literally  signifies 
"  traveller ;"  and  by  this  modest  name  are  in 
dicated  some  of  the  bravest  adventurers  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  But  it  is  not  in  its  usual, 
common-place  signification  that  I  employ  the 

*  In  common  use,  this  word  was  restricted  so  as  to  indicate 
only  the  boatmen,  the  carriers  of  that  time;  but  I  am  writing 
of  a  period  anterior,  by  many  years,  to  the  existence  of  the 
Trade  which  made  their  occupation. 


64:  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

word,  nor  yet  in  that  which  is  given  it  by  most 
•writers  on  the  subject  of  early  French  settle 
ments  and  explorations.  Men  are  often  affected 
by  the  names  given  them,  either  of  opprobrium 
or  commendation ;  but  words  are  quite  as  fre 
quently  changed,  restricted,  or  enlarged  in 
meaning,  by  their  application  to  men.  For 
example  :  you  apply  the  word  soldier  to  a  class 
of  men  ;  and  if  robbery  be  one  of  the  character 
istics  of  that  class,  "soldier"  will  soon  come  to 
mean  "robber"  too.  And  thus,  though  the 
parallel  is  only  logical,  has  it  been  with  the 
term  "voyageur"  The  class  of  men  to  whom 
it  is  applied  were  travellers  —  voyageurs  ;  but 
they  were  more  ;  and  as  the  habits  and  quali 
ties  of  men  came  in  time  to  be  better  under 
stood  than  the  meaning  of  French  words,  the 
term,  used  in  reference  to  Western  history, 
took  much  of  its  significance  from  the  history 
and  character  of  the  men  it  assumed  to  de 
scribe.  Thus,  un  voyageur  means  not  only  a 
traveller,  but  a  traveller  with  a  purpose ;  an 
adventurer  among  the  Western  wilds ;  a  chiv 
alrous  missionary,  either  in  the  cause  of  sci 
ence  or  religion.  It  includes  high  courage, 
burning  zeal  for  church  and  country,  and  the 
most  generous  self-devotion.  It  describes  such 
men  as  Marquette,  La  Salle,  Joliet,  Gravier, 


THE   VOYAGEUR.  65 

and  hundreds  of  others  equally  illustrious,  who 
lived  and  died  among  the  dangers  and  priva 
tions  of  the  wilderness ;  who  opened  the  way 
for  civilization  and  Christianity  among  the 
savages,  and  won,  many  of  them,  crowns  of 
martyrdom. 

They  were  almost  all  Frenchmen.  The 
Spaniards  who  came  to  this  continent  were 
mere  gold-seekers,  thirsting  only  for  wealth; 
and  if  they  sought  to  propagate  Christianity, 
or  rather  the  Christian  name,  it  was  only  a 
sanguinary  bigotry  that  prompted  them.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  English  emigrants  came  to 
take  possession  of  the  country  for  themselves. 
The  conversion  of  the  natives,  or  territorial  ac 
quisition  for  the  mother- country,  were  to  them 
objects  of  barely  secondary  importance.  They 
believed  themselves  persecuted  —  some  of  them 
were  persecuted — and  they  fled:  it  was  only 
safety  for  themselves,  and  the  rich  lands  of  the 
Indian,  that  they  sought.  Providence  reserved 
for  the  French  chevaliers  and  missionaries  the 
glory  of  leaving  their  homes  without  compul 
sion,  real  or  imaginary,  to  penetrate  an  inhos 
pitable  wilderness ;  to  undergo  fatigues ;  to 
encounter  dangers,  and  endure  privations  of  a 
thousand  kinds ;  enticed  by  no  golden  glitter, 
covetous  of  no  riches,  save  such  as  are  "laid 


66  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

up  in  heaven  !"  They  came  not  as  conquerors, 
but  as  ministers  of  peace,  demanding  only  hos 
pitality.  They  never  attacked  the  savages  with 
sword  or  fagot ;  but  extending  hands  not  stained 
by  blood,  they  justified  their  profession  by  relief 
and  love  and  kindly  offices.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
they  received  little  tracts  of  land ;  not  seized 
by  the  hand  of  power,  nor  grasped  by  superior 
cunning, -but  possessed  as  the  free  gift  of  sim 
ple  gratitude  ;  and  upon  these  they  lived  in 
peace,  surrounded  by  savages,  but  protected 
by  the  respect  inspired  by  blameless  and  be 
neficent  lives.  Many  of  those  whose  vows  per 
mitted  it,  intermarried  among  the  converted  na 
tives,  and  left  the  seeds  of  many  meliorations  in 
a  stony  soil ;  and  many  of  them,  when  they 
died,  were  as  sincerely  .mourned  by  the  simple 
children  of  the  forest,  as  if  they  had  been  chiefs 
and  braves. 

Such  were  the  men  of  peace  who  penetrated 
the  wilderness  through  the  French  settlements 
in  Canada,  and  preached  the  gospel  to  the 
heathen,  where  no  white  man  had  ever  before 
been  seen ;  and  it  is  particularly  to  this  class 
that  I  apply  the  word  at  the  head  of  this  arti 
cle.  But  the  same  gentle  spirit  pervaded  other 
orders  of  adventurers  —  men  of  the  sword  and 
buckler,  as  well  as  of  the  stole  and  surplice. 


THE   VOYAGEUE.  67 

These  came  to  establish  the  dominion  of  La 
Belle  France;  "but  it  was  not  to  oppress  the 
simple  native,  or  to  drive  him  from  his  lands. 
Kindness  marked  even  the  conduct  of  the  rough 
soldier ;  and  such  men  as  La  Salle,  and  Iberville, 
who  were  stern  enough  in  war,  and  rigid  enough 
in  discipline,  manifested  always  an  anxious  so 
licitude  for  the  rights,  as  well  as  for  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  the  Indian.  They  gave  a  generous 
confidence  where  they  were  conscious  of  no  wish 
to  injure;  they  treated  frankly  and  on  equal 
terms,  with  those  whom  their  religion  and  their 
native  kindness  alike  taught  them  to  consider 
brethren  and  friends.  Take,  for  example,  that 
significant  anecdote  of  La  Salle,  related  by  the 
faithful  chronicler*  of  his  unfortunate  expedi 
tions.  He  was  building  the  fort  of  Crevecceur, 
near  the  spot  where  now  stands  the  city  of  Pe- 
oria,  on  the  Illinois  river ;  and  even  the  name 
of  his  little  fortress  (Crevecceur,  Broken  Heart) 
was  a  mournful  record  of  his  shattered  fortunes. 
The  means  of  carrying  out  his  noble  enterprise 
(the  colonizing  of  the  Mississippi  valley)  were 
lost ;  the  labor  of  years  had  been  rendered  in- 

*  Joutel,  who  was  one  of  La  Salle's  party,  and  afterward 
wrote  an  account  of  the  enterprise,  entitled  Journal  Histo- 
rique,  published  in  Paris,  1713.  Its  fidelity  is  as  evident  upon 
its  face,  as  is  the  simplicity  of  the  historian. 


68  WESTERN   CHAEACTEES. 

effectual  by  one  shipwreck ;  his  men  were  dis 
contented,  even  mutinous,  "  attempting,"  says 
Hennepin,  "first  to  poison,  and  then  desert 
him  ;"  his  mind  was  distracted,  his  heart  al 
most  broken,  by  accumulated  disasters.  Sur 
rounded  thus  by  circumstances  which  might 
well  have  rendered  him  careless  of  the  feelings 
of  the  savages  around  him,  lie  observed  that 
they  had  become  cold  and  distant  —  that  in 
effect  they  no  longer  viewed  him  as  their 
friend.  The  Iroquois,*  drifting  from  the  shores 
of  Lake  Ontario,  where  they  had  always  been 
the  bitterest  foes  of  the  French,  had  instilled 
fear  and  hatred  into  their  minds ;  it  was  even 
said  that  some  of  his  own  men  had  encouraged 
the  growing  discontent.  In  this  juncture,  what 
measures  does  he  take  ?  Strengthen  his  forti 
fications,  and  prepare  for  war,  as  the  men  of 
other  nations  had  done?  Far  from  it.  Soldier 
and  adventurer  as  he  was,  he  had  no  wish  to 
shed  innocent  blood ;  though  with  his  force  he 
might  have  defied  all  the  nations  about  him. 
He  went  as  a  friend,  frankly  and  generously, 

*  This  was  in  the  winter  of  1679-'80;  and  the  Five  Nations, 
included  in  the  general  term  Iroquois,  had  not  then  made  tho 
conquest  upon  which  the  English  afterward  founded  their  claim 
to  the  country.  They  were,  however,  generally  regarded  aa 
enemies  by  all  the  Illinois  tribes. 


THE   VOYAGEUR.  69 

among  them,  and  demanded  the  reasons  of 
their  discontent.  He  touched  their  hearts  by 
his  confidence,  convinced  them  of  his  friend 
ship,  and  attached  them  to  himself  more  devo 
tedly  than  ever.  A  whole  history  in  one  brief 
passage ! 

But  it  is  more  especially  to  the  voyageurs  of 
the  church — -the  men  of  faith  and  love  —  that  I 
wish  to  direct  my  readers'  attention :  To  such  men 
as  Le  Caron,  a  Franciscan,  with  all  the  zeal  and 
courage  and  self-abnegation  of  his  order,  who 
wandered  and  preached  among  the  bloody  Iro- 
quois,  and  upon  the  waters  of  Huron,  as  early 
as  1616 :  to  Mesnard,  a  devoted  missionary  of 
the  same  order,  who,  in  1660,  founded  a  mission 
at  the  Sault  de  Ste.  Marie,  and  then  went  into 
the  forest  to  induce  the  savages  to  listen  to  the 
glad  tidings  he  had  brought,  and  never  came 
back :  to  Father  Allouez,  who  rebuilt  the  mis 
sion  five  years  afterward  (the  first  of  these 
houses  of  God  which  was  not  destroyed  or 
abandoned),  who  subsequently  crossed  the 
lakes,  and  preached  to  the  Indians  on  Fox 
river,  where,  in  one  of  the  villages  of  the  Mi- 
amis  and  Mascoutens,  Marquette  found  a  cross 
still  standing,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  where 
Allouez  had  raised  it,  covered  with  the  offer 
ings  of  the  simple  natives  to  an  unknown  God. 


70  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

He  is  the  same,  too,  who  founded  Kaskaskia, 
probably  the  earliest  settlement  in  the  great 
valley,  and  whose  history  ends  (significant 
fact!)  with  the  record  of  his  usefulness.  To 
Father  Pinet,  who  founded  Cahokia,  and  was 
so  successful  in  the  conversion  of  the  natives, 
that  his  little  chapel  could  not  contain  the 
numbers  who  resorted  to  his  ministrations :  to 
Father  Marest,  the  first  preacher  against  intem 
perance  ;  and,  finally,  to  Marquette,  the  best 
and  bravest  of  them  all,  the  most  single-hearted 
and  unpretending ! 

Enthusiasm  is  a  characteristic  of  the  French 
nation ;  a  trait  in  some  individuals  elevated  to 
a  sublime  self-devotion,  and  in  others  degraded 
to  mere  excitability.  The  vivacity,  gesticula 
tion,  and  grimace,  which  characterize  most  of 
them,  are  the  external  signs  of  this  nature  ;  the 
calm  heroism  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and 
the  insane  devotion  of  the  nineteenth,  were 
alike  its  fruits.  The  voyageur  possessed  it,  in 
common  with  all  his  countrymen.  But  in  him 
it  was  not  noisy,  turbulent,  or  egotistical ; 
military  glory  had  "neither  part  nor  lot"  in 
his  schemes ;  the  conquests  he  desired  to  make 
were  the  conquests  of  faith;  the  dominion  he 
wished  to  establish  was  the  dominion  of  Jesus. 


THE   VOYAGEUK.  71 

In  the  pursuit  of  these  objects,  or  rather  of 
this  single  object,  I  have  said  he  manifested  the 
enthusiasm  of  his  race ;  but  it  was  the  noblest 
form  of  that  characteristic.  The  fire  that 
burned  in  his  bosom  was  fed  by  no  selfish  pur 
pose.  To  have  thought  of  himself,  or  of  his 
own  comforts,  or  glory,  to  the  detriment  of  any 
Christian  enterprise,  however  dangerous  or  un 
promising,  would,  in  his  eyes,  have  been  a 
deadly  sin. 

At  Sault  de  Ste.  Marie,  Father  Marquette 
heard  of  many  savages  (whom  he  calls  "  God's 
children")  living  in  barbarism,  far  to  the  west. 
"With  five  boatmen  and  one  companion,  he  at 
once  set  out  for  an  unexplored,  even  unvisited 
wilderness.  He  had  what  they  had  not — the 
gospel ;  and  his  heart  yearned  toward  them,  as 
the  heart  of  a  mother  toward  an  afflicted  child. 
He  went  to  them,  and  bound  them  to  him  "  in 
the  bond  of  peace."  If  they  received  him  kind 
ly — as  they  usually  did,  for  even  a  savage  rec 
ognises  and  respects  genuine  devotion  —  he 
preached  to  them,  mediated  among  them,  soft 
ened  their  hearts,  and  gathered  them  into  the 
fold  of  God.  If  they  met  him  with  arms  in  their 
hands  —  as  they  sometimes  did,  for  savages, 
like  civilized  men,  do  not  always  know  their 


72  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

friends — he  resolutely  offered  peace;  and,  in 
his  own  simple  and  pious  language,  "God 
touched  their  hearts,"  and  they  cast  aside  their 
weapons  and  received  him  kindly. 

But  the  voyageur  had  higher  qualities  than 
enthusiasm.  He  was  capable  of  being  so  ab 
sorbed  in  a  cause  as  to  lose  sight  of  his  own 
identity ;  to  forget  that  he  was  more  than  an 
instrument  in  the  hands  of  God,  to  do  God's 
work :  and  the  distinction  between  these  traits 
is  broad  indeed !  Enthusiasm  is  noisy,  obtru 
sive —  self-abnegation  is  silent,  retiring  ;  enthu 
siasm  is  officious,  troublesome,  careless  of  time 
and  place  —  self-abnegation  is  prudent,  gentle, 
considerate.  The  one  is  active  and  fragment 
ary —  the  other  passive,  but  constant. 

Thus,  when  the  untaught  and  simple  native 
was  to  be  converted,  the  missionary  took  note 
of  the  spiritual  capacity  as  well  as  of  the  spirit 
ual  wants ;  he  did  not  force  him  to  receive,  at 
once,  the  whole  creed  of  the  church,  as  a  mere 
enthusiast  would  have  done ;  for  that  wisdom 
would  feed  an  infant  with  strong  meats,  even 
before  it  had  drawn  its  mother's  milk.  Neither 
did  he  preach  the  gospel  with  the  sword,  like 
the  Spaniard,  nor  with  fire  and  fagot,  like  the 
puritan.  He  was  wise  as  the  serpent,  but 
gentle  as  the  dove.  He  took  the  wondering 


THE   VOYAGEUR.  73 

Indian  by  the  hand  ;  received  him  as  a  brother ; 
won  him  over  to  listen  patiently  ;  and  then 
taught  him  first  that  which  he  could  most  easily 
comprehend  :  he  led  him  to  address  the  throne 
of  grace,  or,  in  the  language  of  the  time,  "  to 
embrace  the  prayer ;"  because  even  the  savage 
believed  in  Deity.  As  his  understanding  was 
expanded,  and  his  heart  purified  —  as  every 
heart  must  be  which  truly  lifts  itself  to  God  — 
he  gradually  taught  him  the  more  abstruse  and 
wonderful  doctrines  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
Gently  and  imperceptibly  he  led  him  on,  until 
the  whole  tremendous  work  was  done.  The  un 
tutored  savage,  if  he  knew  nothing  else,  yet 
knew  the  name  of  his  Redeemer.  The  bloody 
warfare,  the-  feuds  and  jealousies  of  his  tribe, 
if  not  completely  overcome,  at  least  were  soft 
ened  and  ameliorated.  "When  he  could  not 
convert,  he  endeavored  to  humanize ;  and 
among  the  tribes  of  the  Illinois,*  though  they 
were  never  thoroughly  Christianized,  the  influ 
ence  of  the  good  fathers  soon  prevailed  to  abol 
ish  the  barbarous  practice  of  torturing  cap 
tives,  f  For  though  they  might  not  embrace 

*  A  collective  name,  including  a  number,  variously  stated, 
of  different  tribes  confederated. 

f  Annals  of  the  West,  by'  J.  H.  Perkins  and  J.  M.  Peck, 
p.  679.  St.  Louis.  1850. 

4 


74:  WESTEKN    CHARACTERS. 

the  religion,  tlie  savages  venerated  its  teachers, 
and  loved  them  for  their  gentleness. 

And  this  gentleness  was  not  want  of  courage ; 
for  never  in  the  history  of  the  world  has  truer 
valor  been  exhibited  than  that  shown  by  the 
early  missionary  and  his  compeers,  the  first 
military  adventurers !  Read  Joutel's  account 
of  the  melancholy  life  and  death  of  La  Salle ; 
read  the  simple,  unpretending  "  Journal"  of 
Marquette  ;*  and  compare  their  constancy  and 
heroism  with  that  displayed  at  any  time  in  any 
cause !  But  the  voyageur  possessed  higher 
qualities  than  courage,  also  ;  and  here  again  we 
recur  to  his  perfect  abnegation  of  himself;  his 
renunciation  of  all  personal  considerations. 

Courage  takes  note  of  danger,  but  defies  it : 
the  voyageur  was  careless  of  danger,  because 
he  counted  it  as  nothing  ;  he'gave  it  no  thought, 
because  it  only  affected  himself ;  and  he  valued 
not  his  own  safety  and  comfort,  so  long  as  he 
could  serve  the  cause  by  forgetting  them.  Mere 
courage  is  combative,  even  pugnacious ;  but 
the  voyageur  fought  only  "  the  good  fight ;"  lie 
had  no  pride  of  conquest,  save  in  the  victories 
of  Faith,  and  rather  would  suffer,  himself,  than 

*  The  substance  of  the  Journal  may  be  found,  republished  by 
Dr.  Sparks,  in  the  second  edition  of  Butler's  Kentucky,  p.  493, 
et  seq.,  and  in  vol.  x.  of  his  American  Biography. 


THE    VOYAGEUK.  75 

inflict  suffering  upon  others.  Mere  courage  is 
restless,  impatient,  purposeless :  but  the  voya- 
geur  was  content  to  remain  wherever  he  could 
do  good,  tentative  only  in  the  cause  of  Christ, 
and  distracted  by  no  objects  from  his  mission. 
His  religion  was  his  inspiration  ;  his  conscience 
his  reward.  His  system  may  have  been  per 
verted,  his  zeal  mistaken,  his  church  a  sham ; 
we  are  not  arguing  that  question.  But  the 
purity  of  his  intentions,  the  sincerity  of  his 
heart,  can  not  be  doubted ;  and  the  most  intol 
erant  protestant  against  "  the  corruptions  of 
Rome"  will,  at  least,  admit  that  even  Catholi 
cism  was  better  than  the  paganism  of  the  sav 
age. 

"  There  is  not,"  says  Macaulay,*  "  and  there 
never  was  on  this  earth,  a  work  of  human  poli 
cy  so  well  deserving  of  examination  as  the  Ro 
man  Catholic  Church."  And  certainly  all  other 
systems  combined  have  never  produced  one 
tithe  of  the  astounding  results  brought  about 
by  this  alone.  Whether  she  has  taught  truth 
or  falsehood ;  whether,  on  the  whole,  it  had 
been  better  or  worse  for  the  cause  of  Christian 
ity,  had  no  such  organization  ever  existed; 
whether  her  claims  be  groundless  or  \vell- 
founded,  are  questions  foreign  to  our  purpose. 

*  Miscellanies,  "Review  of  Ranke's  History  of  the  Popes." 


76  WESTEBN   CliAKACTERS. 

But  tliat  her  polity  is  the  most  powerful  —  the 
best  adapted  to  the  ends  she  has  in  view  —  of  all 
that  man  has  hitherto  invented,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  Her  missionaries  have  been  more  nu 
merous  and  more  successful,  ay,  and  more  de 
voted,  than  those  of  any  other  church.  They 
have  gone  where  even  the  sword  of  the  con 
queror  could  not  cleave  his  way.  They  have 
built  churches  in  the  wilderness,  which  were 
time-worn  and  crumbling  when  the  first  emi 
grant  penetrated  the  forests.  They  have  preach 
ed  to  youthful  savages  who  never  saw  the  face 
of  another  white  man,  though  they  lived  to 
three-score  years  and  ten.  They  have  prayed 
upon  the  shores  of  lonely  lakes  and  rivers, 
which  were  not  mapped  by  geographers  for 
centuries  after  their  deaths.  They  have  trav 
elled  on  foot,  unarmed  and  alone,  where  an 
army  could  not  march.  And  everywhere  their 
zeal  and  usefulness  have  ended  only  with  their 
lives ;  and  always  with  their  latest  breath 
they  have  mingled  prayers  for  the  salvation  of 
their  flocks,  with  aspirations  for  the  welfare  of 
their  church.  For  though  countless  miles  of  sea 
and  land  were  between  her  and  them,  their 
loyalty  and  affection  to  the  great  spiritual 
Mother  were  never  forgotten.  "In  spite  of 
oceans  and  deserts ;  of  hunger  and  pestilence ; 


THE  VOYAGEUK.  77 

of  spies  and  penal  laws ;  of  dungeons  and 
racks,  of  gibbets  and  quartering-blocks,"  they 
have  been  found  in  every  country,  at  all  times, 
ever  active  and  zealous.  And  everywhere,  in 
palace,  or  hovel,  or  wilderness,  they  have  been 
true  sons  of  tlie  church,  loyal  and  obedient. 

An  organization  capable  of  producing  such 
results  is  certainly  well  worth  examination. 
For  the  influence  she  has  wielded  in  ages  past 
gives  promise  of  her  future  power  ;  and  it  be 
comes  those  who  think  her  permanence  perni 
cious  to  the  world,  to  avoid  her  errors  and  yet 
imitate  her  wisdom.  If  the  system  be  a  false 
hood  and  a  sham,  it  is  a  most  gigantic  and  suc 
cessful  one,  and  it  is  of  strange  longevity.  It 
has  lived  now  more  than  fifteen  hundred  years, 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  people 
yet  believe  it.  If  it  be  a  counterfeit,  it  is  high 
time  the  cheat  were  detected  and  exposed.  Let 
those  who  have  the  truth  give  forth  its  light, 
that  the  falsehood  may  wither  and  die.  Unless 
they  do  so,  the  life  which  has  already  extended 
over  so  many  centuries  may  gain  fresh  vigor, 
and  renew  its  youth.  Even  yet  the  vision  of 
the  essayist  may  be  realized  :  "  She  may  still 
exist  in  undiminished  vigor,  when  some  trav 
eller  from  New  Zealand  shall,  in  the  midst  of  a 
vast  solitude,  take  his  stand  on  a  broken  arch 


78  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

of  London  Bridge  to  sketch  tlie  ruins  of  St. 
Paul's!" 

It  was  to  this  church  that  the  early  voya- 
geurs  belonged.  And  I  do  not  use  that  word 
"  belonged"  as  it  is  employed  in  modern  times 
among  protestants :  I  mean  more  than  that  con 
venient,  loosely-fitting  profession,  which,  like  a 
garment,  is  thrown  on  and  off,  as  the  exigencies 
of  hypocrisy  or  cupidity  may  require.  These 
men  actually  did  belong  to  the  church.  They 
were  hers,  soul  and  body  ;  hers,  in  life  and  in 
death  ;  hers  to  go  whithersoever  she  might  di 
rect,  to  do  whatsoever  she  might  appoint.  They 
believed  the  doctrines  they  taught  with  an  abid 
ing,  active  faith ;  and  they  were  willing  to  be 
spent  in  preaching  them  to  the  heathen. 

It  has  always  been  a  leading  principle  in  the 
policy  of  the  Roman  church,  to  preserve  her 
unity,  and  she  has  been  enabled  to  do  so,  prin 
cipally  by  the  ramified  and  elastic  polity  for 
which  she  has  been  distinguished,  to  which  she 
owes  much  of  her  extent  and  power,  as  well  as 
no  small  part  of  the  reproach  so  liberally  be 
stowed  upon  her  in  the  pages  of  history.  There 
are  many  "  arms"  in  her  service :  a  man  must 
be  impracticable  indeed,  when  she  can  find  no 
place  in  which  to  make  him  useful,  or  to  pre- 


THE  VOYAGEUR.  79 

Yent  his  being  mischievous.  She  never  drives 
one  from  the  pale  of  the  church  who  can  benefit 
it  as  a  communicant,  or  injure  it  as  a  dissenter. 
If  he  became  troublesome  at  home,  she  has,  in 
all  ages,  had  enterprises  on  foot  in  which  she 
might  clothe  him  with  authority,  and  send  him 
to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  ;  thus  ridding 
herself  of  a  dangerous  member,  and,  by  the 
same  act,  enlarging  the  sphere  of  her  own  do 
minion.  Does  an  enthusiast  become  noisy,  or 
troublesome  upon  unimportant  points,  the  creed 
is  flexible,  and  the  mother  will  not  quarrel  with 
her  child,  for  his  earnestness  may  convince  and 
lead  astray  more  valuable  sons  and  daughters. 
She  will  establish  a  new  order,  of  which  the 
stubborn  fanatic  shall  be  founder ;  the  new  or 
der  is  built  into  the  old  church  organization, 
and  its  founder  becomes  a  dignitary  of  the  ec 
clesiastical  establishment.  Instead  of  becoming 
a  dangerous  heretic  and  schismatic,  he  is  at 
tached  to  orthodoxy  by  cords  stronger  than 
steel;  henceforth  all  his  earnest  enthusiasm 
shall  be  directed  to  the  advancement  of  his  or 
der,  and  consequently  of  his  church.  Does 
one  exhibit  inflexibility  in  some  matter  of  con 
science  upon  which  the  church  insists,  there 
are  many  of  God's  children  in  the  wilderness 
starving  in  spirit  for  the  bread  of  life ;  and  to 


80  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

these,  with  that  bread,  shall  the  refractory  son 
be  sent.  He  receives  the  commission  ;  departs 
upon  his  journey,  glad  to  forget  a  difference 
with  his  spiritual  superiors;  preaches  to  the 
heathen;  remembers  only  that  the  church  is 
his  mother ;  wins  a  crown  of  martyrdom,  and  is 
canonized  for  the  encouragement  of  others ! 

Thus  she  finds  a  place  for  all,  and  work 
enough  for  each  ;  and  thus  are  thrown  off  the 
elements  of  schism  and  rebellion.  Those  who 
had  most  courage  in  the  cause  of  right ;  all 
who  were  likely  to  be  guided  in  matters  of  con 
science  by  their  own  convictions ;  the  most 
sincere  and  single-hearted,  the  firmest  and  pur 
est  and  bravest,  were,  in  matters  of  controversy, 
the  most  dangerous  champions,  should  they 
range  themselves  against  the  teaching  of  the 
church.  They  were  consequently,  at  the  period 
of  which  I  am  writing,  the  men  whom  it  was 
most  desirable  to  send  away  ;  and  they  were 
eminently  well  fitted  for  the  arduous  and  wast* 
ing  duties  of  the  missionary. 

To  this  class  belonged  the  large  majority  of 
the  voyageur  priests :  men  who  might  be  incon 
venient  and  obtrusive  monitors,  or  formidable 
adversaries  in  controversy,  if  they  remained  at 
home;  but  who  could  only  be  useful  —  who  of 
all  men  could  be  most  useful  —  in  gathering  tho 


THE   VOYAGEUR.  81 

heathen  into  the  fold  of  the  church.  There 
were,  doubtless,  a  few  of  another  class;  the 
restless,  intriguing,  and  disobedient,  who,  though 
not  formidable,  were  troublesome.  But  even 
when  these  joined  the  missionary  expeditions, 
they  did  but  little  to  forward  the  work,  and  are 
entitled  to  none  of  the  honor  so  abundantly  due 
to  their  more  sincere  brethren.  To  this  class, 
for  example,  belonged  the  false  and  egotistical 
Hennepin,  who  only  signalized  himself  by  en 
deavoring  to  appropriate  the  reputation  so 
hardly  won  by  the  brave  and  unfortunate  La 
Salle.* 

It  does  not  appear  upon  the  record  that  any 
of  these  men  —  of  either  the  restless  and  am 
bitious,  or  of  the  better  class  —  were  literally 
sent  away.  But  such  has  been  the  politic  prac 
tice  of  this  church  for  many  ages  ;  and  we  may 
safely  believe,  that  when  she  was  engaged  in 
an  unscrupulous  and  desperate  contest  for  the 
recovery,  by*  fair  means  or  foul,  of  her  immense 
losses,  fhere  might  be  many  in  the  ranks  of  her 
pious  priesthood  whom  it  would  be  inconveni 
ent  to  retain  at  home.  And  during  that  conflict 

*  In  a  book  which  he  published  at  Utrecht,  in  169Y,  entitled 
A  New  Discovery  of  a  Vast  Country,  he  claims  to  have  gone 
down  the  Mississippi  to  its  mouth  before  La  Salle.  The  whole 
book  is  a  mere  plagiarism.  See  Sparks's  Life  of  La  Salle, 
where  the  vain  father  is  summarily  and  justly  disposed  of. 

4* 


82  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

especially,  with,  the  most  formidable  enemies 
she  ever  had,  she  could  not  afford  to  be  encum 
bered. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  motives  of 
their  spiritual  superiors,  the  missionaries  them 
selves  were  moved  only  by  the  considerations 
of  which  we  have  spoken  —  the  truest  piety 
and  the  most  burning  zeal.  Of  these  influences 
they  were  conscious ;  but  we  shall  perhaps  not 
do  the  character  injustice  if  we  add  another 
spur  to  action,  of  which  they  were  not  con 
scious.  There  is  a  vein  of  romance  in  the 
French  composition ;  a  love  of  adventure  for 
the  sake  of  the  adventure  itself,  which,  when 
not  tamed  or  directed,  makes  a  Frenchman  fit 
ful,  erratic,  and  unreliable.  When  it  is  toned 
by  personal  ambition,  it  becomes  a  sort  of  Pala 
din  contempt  for  danger ;  sometimes  a  crazy 
furor.  When  accompanied  by  powerful  intel 
lect,  and  strengthened  by  concentration  on  a 
purpose,  it  makes  a  great  commander  —  great 
for  the  quickness  of  his  comprehension,  the 
suddenness  of  his  resolutions,  the  rapidity  of 
their  execution.  When  humanized  by  love, 
and  quickened  by  religious  zeal,  it  is  purified 
of  every  selfish  thought,  and  produces  the  chiv 
alrous  missionary,  whom  neither  fire  nor  flood, 
neither  desert  nor  pathless  wilderness,  shall  de- 


THE    VOYAGEUK.  83 

ter  from  obeying  the  command  of  Him  who 
sent  his  gospel  "  unto  every  creature."  And 
thus  are  even  those  traits,  which  so  often  curse 
the  world  with  insane  ambition  and  sanguinary 
war,  turned  by  the  power  of  a  true  benevolence 
to  b^  blessings  of  incalculable  value. 

CJ 

Such  were  the  purposes,  such  the  motives, 
of  this  band  of  noble  men  ;  and  whatever  may 
have  been  their  errors,  we  must  at  least  accord 
them  the  virtues  of  sincerity,  courage,  and  self- 
denial.  But  let  us  look  a  little  more  closely  at 
the  means  by  which  they  accomplished  under 
takings  which,  to  any  other  race  of  men,  would 
have  been  not  only  impracticable,  but  utterly 
desperate.  Take  again,  as  the  representative 
of  his  class,  the  case  of  Father  Marquette,  than 
whom,  obscure  as  his  name  is  in  the  wastes  of 
history,  no  man  ever  lived  a  more  instructive 
and  exemplary  life. 

From  the  year  1668  to  1671,*  Marquette  had 
been  preaching  at  the  Sault  de  Sainte  Marie,  a 
little  below  the  foot  of  Lake  Superior.  He  was 
associated  with  others  in  that  mission;  but  the 
largest  type,  though  it  thrust  itself  no  higher 
than  the  smallest,  will  make  the  broadest  im 
press  on  the  page  of  history ;  and  even  in  the 

*  Most  of  these  dates  may  be  found  in  Bancroft's  United 
States,  voJ  iii. 


84:  WESTEKN    CHAKACTEIiS. 

meager  record  of  tliat  time,  we  may  trace  tht 
influence  of  his  gentle  but  firm  spirit — those 
by  whom  he  was  accompanied  evidently  took 
their  tone  from  him.  But  he  was  one  of  the 
Church's  pioneers;  that  class  whose  eager, 
single-hearted  zeal  is  always  pushing  forward 
to  new  conquests  of  the  faith;  and  when  he 
had  put  aside  the  weapons  that  opposed  their 
way,  to  let  his  followers  in,  his  thoughts  at  once 
went  on  to  more  remote  and  suffering  regions. 
During  his  residence  at  the  Sault,  rumors  and 
legends  were  continually  floating  in  of  the  un 
known  country  lying  to  the  west — "the  Land 
of  the  Great  River,"  the  Indians  called  it  — 
until  the  mind  of  the  good  father  became  fully 
possessed  with  the  idea  of  going  to  convert  the 
nations  who  dwelt  upon  its  shores.  In  the  year 
1671,  he  took  the  first  step  in  that  direction, 
moving  on  to  Point  St.  Ignatius,  on  the  main 
land,  north  of  the  island  of  Mackinac.  Here, 
surrounded  by  his  little  flock  of  wondering 
listeners,  he  preached  until  the  spring  of  1673 ; 
but  all  the  time  his  wish  to  carry  the  gospel 
where  its  sound  had  never  been  heard  was 
growing  stronger.  He  felt  in  his  heart  the  im 
pulse  of  his  calling,  to  lead  the  way  and  open 
a  path  for  the  advance  of  light.  At  the  period 
mentioned,  he  received  an  order  from  the  wise 


THE    VOYAOIiCR.  85 

intendant  in  New  France,  M.  Talon,  to  explore 
the  pathless  wilderness  to  the  westward.  . 

Then  was  seen  the  true  spirit  of  the  man,  and 
of  his  order.  He  gathered  together  no  arma 
ment  ;  asked  the  protection  of  no  soldiers ;  no 
part  of  the  cargo  of  his  little  boat  consisted  of 
gunpowder,  or  of  swords  or  guns ;  his  only  arms 
were  the  spirit  of  love  and  peace ;  his  trust  was 
in  God  for  protection.  Five  boatmen,  and  one 
companion,  the  Sieur  Joliet,  composed  his  par 
ty.  Two  light  bark  canoes  were  his  only  means 
of  travelling ;  and  in  these  he  carried  a  small 
quantity  of  Indian  corn  and  some  jerked  meat, 
his  only  means  of  subsistence. 

Thus  equipped,  he  set  out  through  Green  Bay 
and  up  Fox  river,  in  search  of  a  country  never 
yet  visited  by  any  European.  The  Indians  en 
deavored  to  dissuade  him,  wondering  at  his 
hardihood,  and  still  more  at  the  motives  which 
could  induce  him  thus  to  brave  so  many  dan 
gers.  They  told  him  of  the  savage  Indians,  to 
whom  it  would  be  only  pastime  to  torture  and 
murder  him ;  of  the  terrible  monsters  which 
would  swallow  him  and  his  companions, 
"canoes  and  all;"  of  the  great  bird  called 
the  Piasau*  which  devoured  men,  after  car- 

*  The  legend  of  the  Piasau  is  well  known.  "Within  the  rec 
ollection  of  men  now  living,  rude  paintings  of  the  monster 


86  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

rying  them  in  its  horrible  talons  to  inaccessible 
cliffs  and  mountains ;  and  of  the  scorching 
heat,  which  would  wither  him  like  a  dry  leaf. 
"I  thanked  them  kindly,"  says  the  resolute  but 
gentle  father,  "  for  their  good  counsel ;  but  I 
told  them  that  I  could  not  profit  by  it,  since  the 
salvation  of  souls  was  at  stake,  for  which  object 
I  would  be  overjoyed  to  give  my  life."  Sha 
king  them  by  the  hand,  one  by  one,  as  they  ap 
proached  to  bid  him  farewell,  as  they  thought, 
for  the  last  time,  he  turned  his  back  upon  safety 
and  peace,  and  departed  upon  his  self-denying 
pilgrimage. 

Let  him  who  sits  at  ease  in  his  cushioned 
pew  at  home  —  let  him  who  lounges  on  his  vel 
vet-covered  sofa  in  the  pulpit,  while  his  well- 
taught  choir  are  singing ;  who  rises  as  the 
strains  are  dying,  and  kneels  upon  a  cushioned 
stool  to  pray ;  who  treads  upon  soft  carpets 
while  he  preaches,  in  a  white  cravat,  to  con 
gregations  clad  in  broadcloth,  silk,  and  satin 
—  let  him  pause  and  ponder  on  the  difference 
between  his  works,  his  trials,  his  zeal — ay,  and 
his  glory,  both  of  earth  and  heaven  !  —  and  those 
of  Father  James  Marque tte  ! 

were  visible  on  the  cliffs  above  Alton,  Illinois.  To  these  im 
ages,  when  passing  in  their  canoes,  the  Indians  were  accus 
tomed  to  make  offerings  of  maize,  tobacco,  and  gunpowder. 
They  are  now  quite  obliterated. 


THE    VOYAGEUK.  87 

The  little  party  went  upon  their  way ;  the 
persuasions  of  their  simple-hearted  friends  could 
not  prevail,  for  the  path  of  duty  was  before 
them,  and  the  eye  of  God  above.  Having 
passed  through  Green  Bay,  and  painfully 
dragged  their  canoes  over  the  rapids  of  Fox 
river,  they  reached  a  considerable  village,  in 
habited  by  the  united  tribes  of  Kickapoos,  Mi- 
amis,  and  Mascoutimes.  Here  they  halted  for 
a  time,  as  the  mariner,  about  to  prove  the  dan 
gers  of  a  long  voyage,  lingers  for  a  day  in  the 
last  port  he  is  likely  to  enter  for  many  months. 
Beyond  this  point  no  white  man  had  ever 
gone ;  and  here,  if  anywhere,  the  impulses  of 
a  natural  fear  should  have  made  themselves 
felt.  But  we  hear  of  no  hesitation,  no  shrink 
ing  from  the  perilous  task;  and  we  know  from 
the  unpretending  "Journal"  of  the  good  father, 
that  a  retreat,  nay,  even  a  halt  —  longer  than 
was  necessary  to  recruit  exhausted  strength,  and 
renew  the  memory  of  former  lessons  among  the 
natives  —  was  never  thought  of.  "  My  compan 
ion,"  said  Marquette,  referring  to  Joliet,  "  is 
an  envoy  from  the  king  of  France,  and  I  am 
an  humble  minister  of  God.  I  have  no  fear,  be 
cause  I  shall  consider  it  the  highest  happiness 
to  die  in  the  service  of  my  master  /"  There 
was  no  bravado  in  this,  for,  unlike  many  from 


88  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

whom  you  may,  any  day,  hear  the  same  decla-» 
ration,  he  set  forth  immediately  to  encounter 
the  perils  of  his  embassy. 

The  Indians,  unable  to  prevail  with  him  to 
abandon  the  enterprise,  made  all  their  simple 
provision  for  his  comfort ;  and,  furnishing  him 
with  guides  and  carriers  across  the  portage  to 
the  "Wisconsin  river,  parted  with  him  as  one 
bound  for  eternity.  Having  brought  them 
safely  to  the  river,  the  guides  left  them  "  alone 
in  that  unknown  country,  in  the  hand  of  God ;" 
and,  trusting  to  the  protection  of  that  hand, 
they  set  out  upon  their  journey  down  the 
stream.*  Seven  days  after,  "  with  inexpres 
sible  joy,"  they  emerged  upon  the  bosom  of 
the  great  river.  During  all  this  time  they 
had  seen  no  human  being,  though,  probably, 
many  a  wandering  savage  had  watched  them 
from  the  covert  of  the  bank,  as  they  floated 
silently  between  the  forests.  It  was  an  unbro 
ken  solitude,  where  the  ripple  of  their  paddles 
Bounded  loudly  on  the  ear,  and  their  voices, 
subdued  by  the  stillness,  were  sent  back  in 
lonely  echoes  from  the  shore. 

They  were  the  first  white  men  who  ever 
floated  on  the  bosom  of  that  mighty  riverf — 

*  June  10,  1673. 

f  1  mean,  of  course,  the  upper  Mississippi ;  for  De  Soto  had 


THE   VOYAGE UE.  89 

"  the  envoy  from  the  king  of  France,  and  the 
embassador  of  the  King  of  kings."  "What  were 
their  thoughts  we  know  not,  but  from  Mar- 
quette's  simple  "  Journal ;"  for,  in  returning  to 
Quebec,  Joliet's  boat  was  wrecked  in  sight  of 
the  city,  and  all  his  papers  lost.*  Of  the  Sieur 
himself,  we  know  nothing,  save  as  the  compan 
ion  of  Marquette  on  this  voyage  ;  but  from 
this  alone  his  fame  is  imperishable. 

They  sailed  slowly  clown  the  river,  keeping 
a  constant  outlook  upon  the  banks  for  signs  of 
those  for  whose  spiritual  welfare  the  good  fa 
ther  had  undertaken  his  perilous  journey.  But 
for  more  than  sixty  leagues  not  a  human  form 
or  habitation  could  be  seen.  They  had  leisure, 
more  than  they  desired,  to  admire  the  grand 
and  beautiful  scenery  of  that  picturesque  re 
gion.  In  some  places  the  cliffs  rose  perpen 
dicularly  for  hundreds  of  feet  from  the  water's 
edge ;  and  nodding  over  their  brows,  and 
towering  against  the  sky,  were  stately  pines 
and  cedars  of  the  growth  of  centuries.  Here, 

reached  it  lower  down  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  years  be 
fore. 

*  It  was  announced,  some  months  since,  that  our  minister  at 
Eome,  Mr.  Cass,  had  made  discoveries  in  that  city  which  threw 
more  light  upon  this  expedition.  But  how  this  can  be,  con 
sistently  with  the  fact  stated  in  the  text  (about  which  there  is 
no  doubt),  I  am  at  a  loss  to  divine. 


90  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

there  lay  between  the  river  and  the  cliffs,  a 
level  prairie,  waving  in  all  the  luxuriance  of 
"  the  leafy  month  of  June  ;"  while  beyond,  the 
bluffs,  enclosing  the  natural  garden,  softened 
by  the  distance,  and  clothed  in  evergreen, 
seemed  but  an  extension  of  the  primitive  sa 
vanna.  Here,  a  dense,  primeval  forest  grew 
quite  down  to  the  margin  of  the  water;  and, 
hanging  from  the  topmost  branches  of  the 
giant  oaks,  festoons  of  gray  and  graceful  moss 
lay  floating  on  the  rippled  surface,  or  dipped 
within  the  tide.  Here,  the  large,  smooth  roots  of 
trees  half  undermined,  presented  seats  and  foot 
holds,  where  the  pleasant  shade  invited  them  to 
rest,  and  shelter  from  the  sultry  summer  sun. 
Anon,  an  oDen  prairie,  with  no  cliff  or  bluff 
beyond,  extended  undulating  from  the  river, 
until  the  eye,  in  straining  to  measure  its  extent, 
was  wearied  by  the  effort,  and  the  plain  be 
came  a  waving  sea  of  rainbow  colors  ;  of  green 
and  yellow,  gold  and  purple.  Again,  they 
passed  a  gravelly  beach,  on  which  the  yellow 
sand  was  studded  with  a  thousand  sets  of  bril 
liant  shells,  and  little  rivulets  flowed  in  from 
level  prairies,  or  stealthily  crept  out  from  un 
der  roots  of  trees  or  tangled  vines,  and  hastened 
to  be  hidden  in  the  bosom  of  the  great  father 
of  waters. 


THE  TOTAGEUR.  91 

They  floated  on,  through  the  dewy  morning 
hours,  when  the  leaves  were  shining  in  the  sun 
light,  and  the  birds  were  singing  joyously ;  be 
fore  the  summer  heat  had  dried  the  moisture, 
or  had  forced  the  feathered  songsters  to  the 
shade.  At  noon,  when  the  silence  made  the 
solitude  oppressive ;  when  the  leaves  hung 
wilting  down,  nor  fluttered  in  the  fainting 
wind :  when  the  prairies  were  no  longer  wa 
ving  like  the  sea,  but  trembling  like  the  atmo 
sphere  around  a  heated  furnace  :  when  the  mi 
rage  hung  upon  the  plain  :  tall  trees  were  seen 
growing  in  the  air,  and  among  them  stalked 
the  deer,  and  elk,  and  buffalo :  while  between 
them  and  the  ground,  the  brazen  sky  was  glow 
ing  with  the  sun  of  June  :  when  nothing  living 
could  be  seen,  save  when  the  voyageur's  ap 
proach  would  startle  some  wild  beast  slaking 
his  thirst  in  the  cool  river,  or  a  flock  of  water 
fowl  were  driven  from  their  covert,  where  the 
willow  branches,  drooping,  dipped  their  leaves 
of  silvery  gray  within  the  water.  They  floated 
on  till  evening,  when  the  sun  approached  the 
prairie,  and  his  broad,  round  disc,  now  shorn  of 
its  dazzling  beams,  defined  itself  against  the 
sky  and  grew  florid  in  the  gathering  haze : 
when  the  birds  began  to  reappear,  and  flitted 
noiselessly  among  the  trees,  in  busy  prepara- 


92  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

tion  for  the  night :  when  beasts  of  prey  crept 
out  from  lurking-places,  where  they  had  dozed 
and  panted  through  the  hours  of  noon :  when 
the  wilderness  grew  vocal  with  the  mingled 
sounds  of  lowing  "buffalo,  and  screaming  pan 
ther,  and  howling  wolf;  until  the  shadows  rose 
from  earth,  and  travelled  from  the  east;  until 
the  dew  began  to  fall,  the  stars  came  out,  and 
night  brought  rest  and  dreams  of  home  ! 

Thus  they  floated  on,  "  from  morn  till  dewy 
eve,"  and  still  no  sign  of  human  life,  neither 
habitation  nor  footprint,  until  one  day  —  it  was 
the  twenty-fifth  of  June,  more  than  two  weeks 
since  they  had  entered  the  wilderness  —  in 
gliding  past  a  sandy  beach,  they  recognised 
the  impress  of  a  naked  foot !  Following  it  for 
some  distance,  it  grew  into  a  trail,  and  then  a 
path,  once  more  a  place  where  human  beings 
habitually  walked. 

Whose  feet  had  trodden  down  the  grass,  what 
strange  people  lived  on  the  prairies,  they  knew 
not,  what  dangers  might  await  them,  they  cared 
not.  These  were  the  people  whom  the  good 
father  had  come  so  far  to  convert  and  save ! 
And  now,  again,  one  might  expect  some  natural 
hesitation ;  some  doubt  in  venturing  among 
those  who  were  certainly  barbarians,  and  who 
might,  for  aught  they  knew,  be  brutal  canni- 


THE  VOYAGEUR.  93 

bals.  We  could  forgive  a  little  wavering,  in 
deed,  especially  when  we  think  of  the  frightful 
stories  told  them  by  the  Northern  Indians  of 
this  very  people.  But  fear  was  not  a  part  of 
these  men's  nature ;  or  if  it  existed,  it  lay  so 
deep,  buried  beneath  religious  zeal  and  pious 
trust,  that  its  voice  never  reached  the  upper 
air.  Leaving  the  boatmen  with  the  canoes, 
near  the  mouth  of  the  river  now  called  Des 
Moines,  Marquette  and  Joliet  set  out  alone, 
to  follow  up  the  trail,  and  seek  the  people 
who  had  made  it.  It  led  them  to  an  open, 
prairie,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  present 
state  of  Iowa,  and  crossing  this,  a  distance  of 
six  miles,  they  at  last  found  themselves  in  the 
vicinity  of  three  Indian  villages.  The  very 
spot*  where  the  chief  of  these  stood  might  now 
be  easily  found,  so  clear,  though  brief,  is  the 
description  of  the  simple  priest.  It  stood  at  the 
foot  of  a  long  slope,  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
Moingona  (or  Des  Moines),  about  six  miles  due 
west  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  at  the  top  of  the 
rise,  at  the  distance  of  half  a  league,  were  built 

*  The  place  of  Marquette's  landing  —  which  should  be  clas 
sic  ground  —  from  his  description  of  the  country,  and  the  dis 
tance  he  specifies,  could  not  have  been  far  from  the  spot  where 
the  city  of  Keokuk  now  stands,  a  short  distance  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Des  Moines.  The  locality  should,  if  possible,  be 
determined. 


94  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

the  two  others.  "We  commended  ourselves 
unto  God,"  writes  the  gentle  father ;  for  they 
knew  not  at  what  moment  they  might  need  his 
intervention  ;  and  crying  out  with  a  loud  voice, 
to  announce  their  approach,  they  calmly  ad 
vanced  toward  the  group  of  lodges.  At  a  short 
distance  from  the  entrance  to  the  village,  they 
were  met  by  a  deputation  of  four  old  men,  who, 
to  their  great  joy,  they  perceived  bore  a  richly- 
ornamented  pipe  of  peace,  the  emblem  of  friend 
ship  and  hospitality.  Tendering  the  mysterious 
calumet,  they  informed  the  Frenchmen  that 
they  belonged  to  one  of  the  tribes  called  "  Illi 
nois"  (or  "  Men"),  and  invited  them  to  enter 
their  lodges  in  peace:  an  invitation  which  the 
weary  vogagewrs  were  but  too  glad  to  accept. 

A  great  council  was  held,  with  all  the  rude 
but  imposing  ceremonies  of  the  grave  and  dig 
nified  Indian ;  and  before  the  assembled  chiefs 
and  braves,  Marcjuette  published  his  mission 
from  his  heavenly  Master.  Passing,  then,  from 
spiritual  to  temporal  things  —  for  we  do  not 
hear  of  any  actress  from  Joliet,  who  probably 
wras  no  orator  —  he  spoke  of  his  earthly  king, 
and  of  his  viceroy  in  ]STew  France ;  of  his  vic 
tories  over  the  Iroquois,  the  dreaded  enemies 
of  the  peaceful  Western  tribes;  and  then  made 
many  inquiries  about  the  Mississippi,  its  tribu- 


THE   VOYAGEUR.  95 

taries,  and  tlie  nations  who  dwelt  upon  their 
banks.  His  advances  were  kindly  received, 
his  questions  frankly  answered,  and  the  council 
broke  up  with  mutual  assurances  of  good-will. 
Then  ensued  the  customary  festival.  Homminy, 
fish,  buffalo,  and  dog-meat,  were  successively 
served  up,  like  the  courses  of  a  more  modern 
table ;  but  of  the  last  "  we  declined  to  partake," 
writes  the  good  father,  no  doubt  much  to  the 
astonishment  and  somewhat  to  the  chagrin  of 
their  hospitable  friends ;  for  even  yet,  among 
the  western  Indians,  dog-meat  is  a  dish  of  honor. 
Six  days  of  friendly  intercourse  passed  pleas 
antly  away,  diversified  by  many  efforts  on  the 
part  of  Marquette  to  instruct  and  convert  the 
docile  savages.  £Tor  were  these  entirely  with 
out  result ;  they  excited,  at  least,  the  wisli  to 
hear  more ;  and  on  his  departure  they  crowded 
round  him,  and  urgently  requested  him  to  come 
again  among  them.  He  promised  to  do  so,  a 
pledge  which  he  afterward  redeemed.  But 
now  he  could  not  tarry  *  he  was  bent  upon  his 
hazardous  voyage  down  the  Great  River,  and 
he  knew  that  he  was  only  on  the  threshold  of 
his  grand  discoveries.  Six  hundred  warriors, 
commanded  by  their  most  distinguished  chief, 
accompanied  him  back  to  his  boats ;  and,  after 
hanging  around  his  neck  the  great  calumet,  to 


96  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

protect  him  among  the  hostile  nations  of  the 
south,  they  parted  with  him,  praying  that  the 
Great  Spirit,  of  whom  he  had  told  them,  might 
give  him  a  prosperous  voyage,  and  a  speedy 
and  safe  return. 

These  were  the  first  of  the  nations  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley  visited  by  the  French,  and 
it  is  from  them  that  the  state  of  Illinois  takes 
its  name.  They  were  a  singularly  gentle  people  ; 
and  a  nature  originally  peaceful  had  been  ren 
dered  almost  timid  by  the  cruel  inroads  of  the 
murderous  Iroquois.*  These,  by  their  traffic 
with  the  Dutch  and  English  of  New- York,  and 
by  their  long  warfare  with  the  French  of  Cana 
da,  had  acquired  the  use  of  fire-arms,  and,  of 
course,  possessed  an  immense  advantage  over 
those  who  were  armed  only  with  the  primitive 
bow  and  arrow.  The  restless  and  ambitious 
spirit  of  the  singular  confederacy,  usually  call 
ed  the  Five  Nations,  and  known  among  their 
neighbors  by  the  collective  name  of  Iroquois, 
had  carried  their  incursions  even  as  far  as 
the  hunting-grounds  of  the  Shawanese,  about 

*  It  was  by  virtue  of  a  treaty  of  purchase  —  signed  at  Fort 
Stanwix  on  the  5th  of  November,  1768  —  with  the  Six  Nations, 
who  claimed  the  country  as  their  conquest,  that  the  British  as 
serted  a  title  to  the  country  west  of  the  Alleghanies,  Western 
Virginia,  Kentucky,  etc. 


THE  VOYAGEUR.  97 

the  mouth  of  the  Ohio;  and  their  successes 
had  made  them  a  terror  to  all  the  western 
tribes.  The  Illinois,  therefore,  knowing  the 
French  to  be  at  war  with  these  formidable  ene 
mies,  were  the  more  anxious  to  form  an  alliance 
with  them  ;  and  the  native  gentleness  of  their 
manners  was,  perhaps,  increased  by  the  hope 
of  assistance  and  protection.  But,  whatever 
motives  may  have  influenced  them,  besides 
their  natural  character,  their  forethought  was 
of  vital  service  to  the  wanderers  in  the  countries 
of  the  south,  whither  they  proceeded. 

The  little  party  of  seven  resumed  their  voy 
age  on  the  last  day  of  June,  and  floating  with 
the  rapid  current,  a  few  days  afterward  passed 
the  rocks,  above  the  site  of  Alton,  where  was 
painted  the  image  of  the  ravenous  Piasau,  of 
which  they  had  been  told  by  the  Northern  In 
dians,  and  on  the  same  day  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  Pekitanoni,  the  Indian  name  for  the 
rapid  and  turbulent  Missouri.  Inwardly  resolv 
ing,  at  some  future  time,  to  ascend  its  muddy 
current,  to  cross  the  ridge  beyond,  and,  de 
scending  some  river  which  falls  into  the  Great 
South  sea  (as  the  Pacific  was  then  called),  to 
publish  the  gospel  to  all  the  people  of  the  con 
tinent,  the  zealous  father  passed  onward  toward 
the  south.  Coasting  slowly  along  the  wasting 
5 


98  AVESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

shore,  lingering  in  the  mouths  of  rivers,  or  ex 
ploring  dense  forests  in  the  hope  of  meeting  the 
natives,  they  continued  on  their  course  until 
they  reached  the  mouth  of  a  river  which  they 
called  the  Ouabacke,  or  Wabash,  none  other 
than  the  beautiful  Ohio.*  Here  they  found 
the  advanced  settlement  of  Shawanese,  who  had 
been  pushed  toward  the  southwest  by  the  in 
cessant  attacks  of  the  Iroquois.  But  by  this 
time,  fired  with  the  hope  of  ascertaining  the 
outlet  of  the  Mississippi,  they  postponed  their 
visit  to  these  people  until  their  return,  and 
floated  on. 

It  is  amusing,  as  well  as  instructive,  to  observe 
how  little  importance  the  travellers  gave  to  the 
river  Ohio,  in  their  geographical  assumptions. 
In  the  map  published  by  Marquette  with  his 
"  Journal,"  the  "  Oudbisyuigou"  as  he  denomi 
nates  it,  in  euphonious  French-Indian,  com 
pared  to  the  Illinois  or  even  to  the  Wisconsin, 
is  but  an  inconsiderable  rivulet !  The  lonely 

*  The  geographical  mistakes  of  the  early  French  explorers 
have  led  to  some  singular  discussions  about  Western  history  — 
have  even  been  used  by  diplomatists  to  support  or  weaken 
territorial  claims.  Such,  for  example,  is  the  question  concern 
ing  the  antiquity  of  Vincennes,  a  controversy  founded  on  the 
mistake  noticed  in  the  text.  Vide  Western  Annals.  2d  Ed. 
Revised  by  J.  M.  Peck. 


THE  VOYAGEUE.  99 

wanderers  were  much  farther  from  the  English 
settlements  than  they  supposed  ;  a  mistake  into 
which  they  must  have  been  led,  by  hearing  of 
the  incursions  of  the  Iroquois ;  for  even  at  that 
early  day  they  could  not  but  know  that  the 
head-waters  of  the  Ohio  were  not  distant  from 
the  hunting-grounds  of  that  warlike  confeder 
acy.  Even  this  explanation,  however,  scarcely 
lessens  our  wonder  that  they  should  have  known 
so  little  of  courses  and  distances ;  for  had  this 
river  been  as  short  as  it  is  here  delineated,  they 
would  have  been  within  four  hundred  miles  of 
Montreal. 

After  leaving  the  Ohio,  they  suffered  much 
from  the  climate  and  its  incidents ;  for  they 
were  now  approaching,  in  the  middle  of  July, 
a  region  of  perpetual  summer.  Mosquitoes 
and  other  venomous  insects  (in  that  region  we 
might  even  call  them  ravenous  insects)  became 
intolerably  annoying ;  and  the  voyageurs  began 
to  think  they  had  reached  the  country  of  the 
terrible  heats,  which,  as  they  had  been  warned 
in  the  north,  "  would  wither  them  up  like  a  dry 
leaf."  But  the  prospect  of  death  by  torture  and 
savage  cruelty  had  not  daunted  them,  and  they 
were  not  now  disposed  to  be  turned  back  by 
any  excess  of  climate.  Arranging  their  sails 
in  the  form  of  awnings  to  protect  them  from 


100  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

the  sun  by  day  and  the  dews  by  night,  they 
resolutely  pursued  their  way. 

Following  the  course  of  the  river,  they  soon 
entered  the  region  of  cane-brakes,  so  thick  that 
no  animal  larger  than  a  cat  could  penetrate 
them ;  and  of  cotton-wood  forests  of  immense 
size  and  of  unparalleled  density.  They  were 
far  beyond  the  limits  of  every  Indian  dialect 
with  which  they  had  become  acquainted  — 
were,  in  fact,  approaching  the  region  visited 
by  De  Soto,  on  his  famous  expedition  in  search 
of  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon's  fountain  of  youth.* 
The  country  was  possessed  by  the  Sioux  and 
Chickasaws,  to  whom  the  voyageurs  were  total 
strangers ;  but  they  went  on  without  fear.  In 
the  neighborhood  of  the  southern  boundary  of 
the  present  state  of  Arkansas,  they  were  met 
in  hostile  array  by  great  numbers  of  the  na 
tives,  who  approached  them  in  large  canoes 
made  from  the  trunks  of  hollow  trees.  But 
Marquette  held  aloft  the  symbol  of  peace,  the 
ornamented  calumet,  and  the  hearts  of  the  sav 
ages  were  melted,  as  the  pious  fatber  believed, 
by  the  touch  of  God.  They  threw  aside  their 

*  In  1541,  De  Soto  crossed  the  Mississippi  about  the  thirty- 
fifth  parallel  of  latitude,  or  near  the  northern  boundary  of  the 
state  of  that  name.  It  is  not  certain  how  far  below  this  Mar 
quette  went,  though  we  are  safe  in  saying  that  he  did  not  turn 
back  north  of  that  limit. 


THE   YOYAGEUK.  101 

weapons,  and  received  the  strangers  with  rude 
but  hearty  hospitality.  They  escorted  them, 
with  many  demonstrations  of  welcome,  to  the 
village  of  Michigamia ;  and,  on  the  following 
day,  having  feasted  their  strange  guests  plenti 
fully,  though  not  with  the  unsavory  meats  of  the 
Illinois,  they  marched  in  triumphal  procession 
to  the  metropolis  of  Akansea,  about  ten  leagues 
distant,  down  the  river. 

This  was  the  limit  of  their  voyage.  Here 
they  ascertained,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  the  Mis 
sissippi  flowed  into  the  gulf  of  Mexico,  and  not, 
as  had  been  conjectured,  into  the  great  South 
sea.  Here  they  found  the  natives  armed  with 
axes  of  steel,  a  proof  of  their  traffic  with  the 
Spaniards  ;  and  thus  was  the  circle  of  discovery 
complete,  connecting  the  explorations  of  the 
French  with  those  of  the  Spanish,  and  entirely 
enclosing  the  possessions  of  the  English.  ~No 
voyage  so  important  has  since  been  under 
taken — no  results  so  great  have  ever  been 
produced  by  so  feeble  an  expedition.  The 
discoveries  of  Marquette,  followed  by  the  en 
terprises  of  La  Salle  and  his  successors,  have 
influenced  the  destinies  of  nations  ;  and  passing 
over  all  political  speculations,  this  exploration 
first  threw  open  a  valley  of  greater  extent,  fer- 


102  WESTEEN    CIIAEACTEES. 

tility,  and  commercial  advantages,  than  any 
other  in  the  world.  Had  either  the  French  or 
the  Spanish  possessed  the  stubborn  qualities 
which  hold,  as  they  had  the  useful  which  dis 
cover,  the  aspect  of  this  continent  would,  at 
this  day,  have  been  far  different. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  July,  having  preached 
to  the  Indians  the  glory  of  God  and  the  Catho 
lic  faith,  and  proclaimed  the  power  of  the 
Grand  Monarque  —  for  still  we  hear  nothing 
of  speech-making  or  delivering  credentials  on 
the  part  of  Joliet — he  set  out  on  his  return. 
After  severe  and  wasting  toil  for  many  days, 
they  reached  a  point,  as  Marquette  supposed, 
some  leagues  below  the  mouth  of  the  Moin- 
gona,  or  Des  Moines.  Here  they  left  the  Mis 
sissippi,  and  crossed  the  country  between  that 
river  and  the  Illinois,  probably  passing  through 
the  very  country  which  now  bears  the  good  fa 
ther's  name,  entering  the  latter  stream  at  a 
point  not  far  from  the  present  town  of  Peoria. 
Proceeding  slowly  up  that  calm  river,  preach 
ing  to  the  tribes  along  its  banks,  and  partaking 
of  their  hospitality,  he  was  at  last  conducted  to 
Lake  Michigan,  at  Chicago,  and  by  the  end  of 
September  was  safe  again  in  Green  Bay,  having 
travelled,  since  the  tenth  of  June,  more  than 
three  thousand  miles. 


THE   YOYAGKUR.  103 

It  might  have  been  expected  that  one  who 
had  made  so  magnificent*  a  discovery — who 
had  braved  so  much  and  endured  so  much  — 
would  wish  to  announce  in  person,  to  the  au 
thorities  in  Canada,  or  in  France,  the  results 
of  his  expedition.  Xay,  it  would  not  have 
been  unpardonable  had  he  desired  to  enjoy, 
after  his  labors,  something  of  the  consideration 
to  which  their  success  entitled  him.  And,  cer 
tainly,  no  man  could  ever  have  approached  his 
rulers  with  a  better  claim  upon  their  notice  than 
could  the  unpretending  voyageur.  But  vain 
glory  was  no  more  a  part  of  his  nature,  than 
was  fear.  The  unaspiring  priest  remained  at 
Green  Bay,  to  continue,  or  rather  to  resume,  as 
a  task  laid  aside  only  for  a  time,  his  ministra 
tions  to  the  savages.  Joliet  hastened  on  to 
Quebec  to  report  the  expedition,  and  Mar- 
quette  returned  to  Chicago,  for  the  purpose  of 
preaching  the  gospel  to  the  Miami  confederacy; 
several  allied  tribes  who  occupied  the  country 
between  Lake  Michigan  and  the  Des  Moines 
river.  Here  again  he  visited  the  Illinois, 
speaking  to  them  of  God,  and  of  the  religion 
of  Jesus;  thus  redeeming  a  promise  which  lie 
had  made  them,  when  on  his  expedition  to  the 
South. 

But  his  useful,  unambitious  life  was  drawing 


104  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

to  a  close.     Let  us  describe  its  last  scene  in  the 
words  of  our  accomplished  historian  : — • 

"  Two  years  afterward,  sailing  from  Chicago 
to  Mackinac,  he  entered  a  little  river  in  Michi 
gan.  Erecting  an  altar,  he  said  mass,  after  the 
rites  of  the  Catholic  church ;  then,  begging  the 
men  who  conducted  his  canoe  to  leave  him 
alone  for  a  half  hour, 

'  In  the  darkling  wood, 

Amid  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down, 
And  offered  to  the  mightiest  solemn  thanks 
And  supplication.' 

At  the  end  of  the  half  hour  they  went  to  seek 
him,  and  lie  was  no  more.  The  good  mission 
ary,  discoverer  of  a  world,  had  fallen  asleep  on 
the  margin  of  the  stream  that  bears  his  name. 
JSTear  its  mouth,  the  canoe-men  dug  his  grave 
in  the  sand.  Ever  after,  the  forest  rangers,  in 
their  danger  on  Lake  Michigan,  would  invoke 
his  name.  The  people  of  the  West  will  build 
his  monument."* 

The  monument  is  not  yet  built ;  though  the 
name  of  new  counties  in  several  of  our  western 
states  testifies  that  the  noble  missionary  is  not 
altogether  forgotten,  in  the  land  where  he  spent 
so  many  self-denying  years. 

*  Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States,  vol.  iii.,  p.  161,  et 
*eq.t  where  the  reader  may  look  for  most  of  these  dates* 


THE   VOYAGEUK.  105 

Sucli  was  the  voyageur  priest;  tlie  first,  in 
chronological  order,  of  the  succession  of  singu 
lar  men  who  have  explored  and  peopled  the 
great  West.  And  though  many  who  have  fol 
lowed  him  have  been  his  equals  in  courage  and 
endurance,  none  have  ever  possessed  the  same 
combination  of  heroic  and  unselfish  qualities. 
It  ought  not  to  be  true  that  this  brief  and  cur 
sory  sketch  is  the  first  distinct  tribute  yet  paid 
to  his  virtues ;  for  no  worthier  subject  ever  em 
ployed  the  pen  of  the  poet  or  historian. 

NOTE. — Struck  with  the  fact  that  the  history  of  this  class  of 
men,  and  of  their  enterprises  and  sufferings,  has  never  been 
written,  except  by  themselves  in  their  simple  "Journals"  and 
"Relations" — for  the  resume  given  of  these  by  Sparks,  Ban 
croft-,  and  others,  is  of  necessity  a  mere  unsatisfactory  abstract 
—  the  writer  has  for  some  time  been  engaged  in  collecting  and 
arranging  materials,  with  the  intention  of  supplying  the  want. 
The  authorities  are  numerous  and  widely  scattered  ;  and  such 
a  work  ought  to  be  thoroughly  and  carefully  written,  so  that 
much  time  and  labor  lies  between  the  author  and  his  day  of 
publication.  Should  he  be  spared,  however,  to  finish  the  work, 
he  hopes  to  present  a  picture  of  a  class  of  men,  displaying  aa 
much  of  vfue  devotion,  genuine  courage,  and  self-denial,  in  the 
humble  walk  of  the  missionary,  as  the  pages  of  history  show 
in  any  other  department  of  human  enterprise. 
5* 


III. 

THE  PIONEEK. 


"  I  hear  the  tread  of  pioneers, 

Of  nations  yet  to  be  — 
The  first  low  wash  of  waves  where  soon 
Shall  roll  a  human  sea." 

WHITTIER. 

The  axe  rang  sharply  'mid  those  forest  shades 
Which,  from  creation,  toward  the  sky  had  towered 
In  unshorn  beauty." 

SIOOUKNEY. 


Next,  in  chronological  order,  after  the  mis 
sionary,  came  the  military  adventurer  —  of 
which  class  La  Salle  was  the  best  representa 
tive.  But  the  expeditions  led  by  these  men, 
were,  for  the  most  part,  wild  and  visionary  en 
terprises,  in  pursuit  of  unattainable  ends.  They 
were,  moreover,  unskilfully  managed  and  un 
fortunately  terminated  —  generally  ending  in 
the  defeat,  disappointment,  and  death  of  those 
who  had  set  them  on  foot.  They  left  no  per 
manent  impress  upon  the  country;  the  most 


i;     |>  I  o  X  K  K  R. 


THE    PIONEER.  107 

acute  moral  or  political  vision  can  not  now  de 
tect  a  trace  of  tlieir  influence,  in  the  aspect  of 
the  lands  they  penetrated ;  and,  so  far  from 
hastening  the  settlement  of  the  Great  Yalley,  it 
is  more  probable  that  their  disastrous  failures 
rather  retarded  it  —  by  deterring  others  from 
the  undertaking.  Their  history  reads  like  a 
romance  ;  and  their  characters  would  better 
grace  the  pages  of  fiction,  than  the  annals  of 
civilization.  Further  than  this  brief  reference, 
therefore,  I  find  no  place  for  them,  in  a  work 
which  aims  only  to  notice  those  who  either  aid- 
ed~to  produce,  or  indicated,  the  characteristics 
of  the  society  in  which  they  lived. 

Soon  after  them,  came  the  Indian-traders  — 
to  whose  generosity  so  many  of  the  captives? 
taken  by  the  natives  in  those  early  times, 
were  indebted  for  their  ransom.  But  —  not 
withstanding  occasional  acts  of  charity  —  their 
unscrupulous  rapacity,  and,  particularly,  their 
introduction  of  spirituous  liquors  among  the 
savages,  furnish  good  reason  to  doubt,  whether, 
on  the  whole,  they  did  anything  to  advance  the 
civilization  of  the  lands  and  people  they  visit 
ed.  And,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  refer 
again,  though  briefly,  to  the  character  in  a  sub 
sequent  article,  we  will  pass  over  it  for  the  pres 
ent,  and  hasten  on  to  the  Pioneer. 


108  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Of  this  class,  there  are  two  sub-divisions :  the 
floating,  transitory,  and  erratic  frontierman  — 
including  the  hunter,  the  trapper,  the  scout 
and  Indian-fighter :  men  who  can  not  be  consid 
ered  citizens  of  any  country,  but  keep  always  a 
little  in  advance  of  permanent  emigration.  With 
this  division  of  the  class,  we  have  little  to  do  : 
first,  because  they  are  already  well  understood, 
by  most  readers  in  this  country,  through  the 
earlier  novels  of  Cooper,  their  great  delineator ; 
and,  second,  because,  as  we  have  intimated,  our 
business  is  chiefly  with  those,  whose  footprints 
have  been  stamped  upon  the  country,  'and 
whose  influence  is  traceable  in  its  civilization. 
"We,  therefore,  now  desire  to  direct  attention  to 
the  other  sub-division  —  the  genuine  "settler;" 
the  firm,  unflinching,  permanent  emigrant,  who 
entered  the  country  to  till  the  land  and  to  pos 
sess  it,  for  himself  and  his  descendants. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  let  us  inquire  what 
motives  could  induce  men  to  leave  regions, 
where  the  axe  had  been  at  work  for  many 
years  —  where  the  land  was  reduced  to  culti 
vation,  and  the  forest  reclaimed  from  the  wild 
beast  and  the  wilder  savage  —  where  civiliza 
tion  had  begun  to  exert  its  power,  and  society 
had  assumed  a  legal  and  determined  shape  — 
to  depart  from  all  these  things,  seeking  a  new 


THE   PIONEEK.  109 

home  in  an  inhospitable  wilderness,  where  they 
could  only  gain  a  footing  by  severe  labor,  con 
stant  strife,  and  sleepless  vigilance  ?  To  be 
capable  of  doing  all  this,  from  any  motive,  a 
man  must  be  a  strange  compound  of  qualities; 
but  that  compound,  strange  as  it  is,  has  done, 
and  is  doing,  more  to  reclaim  the  west,  and 
change  the  wilderness  into  a  garden,  than  all 
other  causes  combined. 

• 

A  prominent  trait  in  the  character  of  the 
V  genuine  American,  is  the  desire  "  to  better  his 
condition" — a  peculiarity  which  sometimes 
embodies  itself  in  the  disposition  to  forget  the 
good  old  maxim,  "  Let  well-enough  alone,"  and 
not  unfrequently  leads  to  disaster  and  suffer 
ing.  A  thorough  Yankee  —  using  that  word  as 
the  English  do,  to  indicate  national,  not  sec 
tional,  character  —  is  never  satisfied  with  doing 
well ;  he  always  underrate^  Jiis  gains  and  his 
successes;  and,  though  to  others  he  may  be 
boastful  enough,  and  may,  even  truly,  rate  the 
profits  of  his  enterprise  by  long  strings  of 
"  naught,"  he  is  always  whispering  to  himself, 
"I  ought  to  do  better."  If  he  sees  any  one 
accumulating  property  faster  than  himself,  he 
becomes  emulous  and  discontented  —  he  is  apt 
to  think,  unless  he  goes  more  rapidly  than  any 


110  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

one  else,  that  lie  is  not  moving  at  all.  If  lie 
can  find  no  one  of  Lis  neighbors  advancing 
toward  fortune,  with  longer  strides  than  he,  he 
will  imagine  some  successful  "  speculator,"  to 
whom  he  will  compare  himself,  and  chafe  at 
his  inferiority  to  a  figment  of  his  own  fancy. 
If  he  possessed  "  a  million  a  minute,"  he  would 
cast  about  for  some  profitable  employment,  in 
which  he  might  engage,  "  to  pay  expenses." 
He  will  abandon  a  silver-mine,  of  plow,  but  cer 
tain  gains,  for  the  gambling  chances  of  a  gold 
"placer;"  and  if  any  one  within  his  knowledge 
dig  out  more  wealth  than  he,  he  will  leave  the 
"  diggings,"  though  his  success  be  quite  en 
couraging,  and  go  qnixoting  among  the  islands 
of  the  sea,  in  search  of  pearls  and  diamonds. 
With  the  prospect  of  improvement  in  his  for 
tunes  —  whether  that  prospect  be  founded  upon 
reason,  be  a  naked  fancy,  or  the  offspring  of 
mere  discontent -5- he  regards  no  danger,  cares 
for  no  hardship,  counts  no  suffering.  Every 
thing  must  bend  before  the  ruling  passion,  "  to 
better  his  condition." 

His  spirit  is  eminently  encroaching.  Rather 
than  give  up  any  of  his  own  "  rights,"  he  will 
take  a  part  of  what  belongs  to  others.  What 
ever  he  thinks  necessary  to  his  welfare,  to  that 
he  believes  himself  entitled.  To  whatever 


THE   PIONEER.  Ill 

point  he  desires  to  reach,  he  takes  the  etraight- 
est  course,  even  though  the  way  lie  across  the 
corner  of  his  neighbor's  field.  Yet  he  is  in 
tensely  jealous  of  his  own  possessions,  and 
warns  off  all  trespassers  with  an  imperial  men 
ace  of  "  the  utmost  penalty  of  the  law."  He 
has,  of  course,  an  excellent  opinion  of  himself 
—  and  justly:  for  when  not  blinded  by  cupid 
ity  or  vexed  by  opposition,  no  man  can  hold 
the  scales  of  justice  with  a  more  even  hand. 

He  is  seldom  conscious  of  having  done  a 
wrong :  for  he  rarely  moves  until  he  has  ascer 
tained  "  both  the  propriety  and  expediency  of 
the  motion."  He  has,  therefore,  an  instinctive 
aversion  to  all  retractions  and  apologies.  He 
has  such  a  proclivity  to  the  forward  movement, 
that  its  opposite,  even  when  truth  and  justice 
demand  it,  is  stigmatized,  in  his  vocabulary, 
by  odious  and  ridiculous  comparisons.  He  is 
very  stubborn,  and,  it  is  feared,  sometimes  mis 
takes  his  obstinacy  for  firmness.  He  thinks  a 
safe  retreat  worse  than  a  defeat  with  slaughter. 
Yet  he  never  rests  under  a  reverse,  and,  though 
manifestly  prostrate,  will  never  acknowledge 
that  he  is  beaten.  A  check  enrages  him  more 
than  a  decided  failure  :  for  so  long  as  his  end  is 
not  accomplished,  nor  defeated,  he  can  see  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  succeed.  If  his  forces 


112  WESTERN   CHAKACTEK& 

are  driven  back,  shattered  and  destroyed,  he  is 
not  cast  down,  but  angry  —  he  forthwith  swears 
vengeance  and  another  trial.  He  is  quite  in 
satiable —  as  a  failure  does  not  dampen  him, 
success  can  never  satisfy  him.  His  plans  are 
always  on  a  great  scale  ;  and,  if  they  sometimes 
exceed  his  means  of  execution,  at  least,  "  he 
who  aims  at  the  sun,"  though  he  may  lose  his 
arrow,  "  will  not  strike  the  ground."  He  is  a 
great  projector  — but  he  is  eminently  practi 
cal,  as  well  as  theoretical ;  and  if  he  cannot 
realize  his  visions,  no  other  man  need  try. 

He  is  restless  and  migratory.  He  is  fond  of 
change,  for  the  sake  of  the  change  ;  and  he  will 
have  it,  though  it  bring  him  only  new  labors 
and  new  hardships.  He  is,  withal,  a  little  sel 
fish —  as  might  be  supposed.  He  begins  to 
lose  his  attachment  to  the  advantages  of  his 
home,  so  soon  as  they  are  shared  by  others. 
He  does  not  like  near  neighbors — has  no  affec 
tion  for  the  soil ;  he  will  leave  a  place  on  which 
he  has  expended  much  time  and  labor,  as  soon 
as  the  region  grows  to  be  a  "  settlement." 
Even  in  a  town,  he  is  dissatisfied  if  his  next 
neighbor  lives  so  near  that  the  women  can 
gossip  across  the  division-fence.  He  likes  to 
be  at  least  one  day's  journey  from  the  nearest 
plantation. 


THE   PIONEEK.  113 

I  once  heard  an  old  pioneer  assign  as  a  rea 
son  why  he  must  emigrate  from  western  Illi 
nois,  the  fact  that  "  people  were  settling  right 
under  his  nose"  —  and  the  farm  of  his  nearest 
neighbor  was  twelve  miles  distant,  by  the  sec 
tion  lines !  He  moved  on  to  Missouri,  but  there 
the  same  "  impertinence"  of  emigrants  soon  fol 
lowed  him ;  and,  abandoning  his  half-finished 
"  clearing,"  he  packed  his  family  and  house 
hold  goods  in  a  little  wagon,  and  retreated, 
across  the  plains  to  Oregon.  He  is  —  or  was, 
two  years  ago  —  living  in  the  valley  of  the 
Willamette,  where,  doubtless,  he  is  now  cha 
fing  under  the  affliction  of  having  neighbors  in 
the  same  region,  and  nothing  but  an  ocean  be 
yond. 

His  character  seems  to  be  hard-featured. 

But  he  is  neither  unsocial,  nor  morose.  He 
welcomes  the  stranger  as  heartily  as  the  most 
hospitable  patriarch.  -He  receives  the  sojourn- 
er  at  his  fireside  without  question.  He  regales 
him  with  the  best  the  house  affords :  is  always 
anxious  to  have  him  "  stay  another  day."  He 
cares  for  his  horse,  renews  his  harness,  laughs 
at  his  stories,  and  exchanges  romances  with  him. 
He  hunts  with  him ;  fishes,  rides,  walks,  talks, 
eats,  and  drinks  with  him.  His  wife  washes 
and  mends  the  stranger's  shirts,  and  lends  him 


114:  WESTERN   CnATlACTKRS. 

a  needle  and  thread  to  sew  a  button  on  his 
only  pair  of  pantaloons.  The  children  sit  on 
his  knee,  the  dog  lies  at  his  feet,  and  accom 
panies  him  into  the  woods.  The  whole  family 
are  his  friends,  and  only  grow  cold  and  distant 
when  they  learn  that  he  is  looking  for  land, 
and  thinks  of  "settling"  within  a  few  leagues. 
If  nothing  of  the  sort  occurs  —  and  this  only 
u  leaks  out"  by  accident,  for  the  pioneer  never 
pries  inquisitively  into  the  business  of  his  guest, 
he  keeps  him  as  long  as  he  can ;  and  when  he 
can  stay  no  longer,  fills  his  saddle-bags  with 
flitches  of  bacon  and  "pones"  of  corn-bread, 
shakes  him  heartily  by  the  hand,  exacts  a 
promise  to  stop  again  on  his  return,  and  bids 
him  "  God- speed"  on  his  journey. 

Such  is  American  character,  in  the  manifes 
tations  which  have  most  affected  the  settlement 
and  development  of  the  West ;  a  compound  of 
many  noble  qualities,  with  a  few  —  and  no  na 
tion  is  without  such  —  that  are  not  quite  so  re 
spectable.  All  these,  both  good  and  bad,  were 
possessed  by  the  early  pioneer  in  an  eminent, 
sometimes  in  an  extravagant  degree  ;  and  the 
circumstances,  by  which  he  found  himself  sur 
rounded  after  his  emigration  to  the  West, 
tended  forcibly  to  their  exaggeration. 


THE   PIONEER.  115 

But  the  qualities  —  positive  and  negative  — 
above  enumerated,  were,  many  of  them,  at 
least,  peculiarities  belonging  to  the  early  emi 
grant,  as  much  before  as  after  his  removal. 
And  there  were  others,  quite  as  distinctly 
marked,  called  into  activity,  if  not  actually 
created  by  his  life  in  the  wilderness.  Such, 
for  example,  was  his  self-reliance  —  his  con 
fidence  in  his  own  strength,  sagacity,  and  cour 
age.  It  was  but  little  assistance  that  he  ever 
required  from  his  neighbors,  though  no  man 
was  ever  more  willing  to  render  it  to  others,  in 
the  hour  of  need.  He  was  the  swift  avenger 
of  his  own  wrongs,  and  he  never  appealed  to 
another  to  ascertain  his  rights.  Legal  tribu 
nals  were  an  abomination  to  him.  Government 
functionaries  he  hated,  almost  as  the  Irish  hate 
excisemen.  Assessments  and  taxes  he  could 
not  endure,  for,  since  he  was  his  own  protector, 
he  had  no  interest  in  sustaining  the  civil  author 
ities. 

Military  organizations  he  despised,  for  sub 
ordination  was  no  part  of  his  nature.  He  stood 
up  in  the  native  dignity  of  manhood,  and  called 
no  mortal  his  superior.  When  he  joined  his 
neighbors,  to  avenge  a  foray  of  the  savages,  he 
joined  on  the  most  equal  terms  —  each  mail 
was,  for  the  time,  his  own  captain ;  and  when 


116  WESTERN    CHAKACTERS. 

the  leader  was  chosen  —  for  the  pioneers,  with 
all  their  personal  independence,  were  far  too 
rational  to  underrate  the  advantages  of  a  head 
in  the  hour  of  danger  —  each  voice  was  counted 
in  the  choice,  and  the  election  might  fall  on 
any  one.  But,  even  after  such  organization, 
every  man  was  fully  at  liberty  to  abandon  the 
expedition,  whenever  he  became  dissatisfied,  or 
thought  proper  to  return  home.  And  if  this 
want  of  discipline  sometimes  impaired  the 
strength,  and  rendered  unavailing  the  efforts, 
of  communities,  it  at  least  fostered  the  manly 
spirit  of  personal  independence  ;  and,  to  keep 
that  alive  in  the  breasts  of  a  people,  it  is  worth 
while  to  pay  a  yearly  tribute,  even  though  that 
tribute  be  rendered  unto  the  King  of  Terrors ! 

This  self  reliance  was  not  an  arrogant  and 
vulgar  egotism,  as  it  has  been  so  often  repre 
sented  in  western  stories,  and  the  tours  of  super 
ficial  travellers.  It  was  a  calm,  just  estimate 
of  his  own  capabilities  —  a  well-grounded  con 
fidence  in  his  own  talents  —  a  clear,  manly 
understanding  of  his  own  individual  rights,  dig 
nity,  and  relations.  Such  is  the  western  defini 
tion  of  independence;  and  if  there  be  anything 
of  it  in  the  western  character  at  the  present  day, 
it  is  due  to  the  stubborn  and  intense  individu 
ality  of  the  first  pioneer.  He  it  was  who  laid 


THE   PIONEER.  117 

the  foundation  of  our  social  fabric,  and  it  is  his 
spirit  which  yet  pervades  our  people. 

The  quality  which  next  appears,  in  analyzing 
this  character,  is  his  courage. 

It  was  not  mere  physical  courage,  nor  was  it 
stolid  carelessness  of  danger.  The  pioneer 
knew,  perfectly  well,  the  full  extent  of  the 
peril  that  surrounded  him ;  indeed,  he  could 
not  be  ignorant  of  it ;  for  almost  every  day 
brought  some  new  memento,  either  of  his  sav 
age  foe,  or  of  the  prowling  beast  of  prey.  He 
ploughed,  and  sowed,  and  reaped,  and  gathered, 
with  the  rifle  slung  over  his  shoulders ;  and,  at 
every  turn,  he  halted,  listening,  with  his  ear 
turned  toward  his  home;  for  well  he  knew 
that,  any  moment,  the  scream  of  his  wife,  or 
the  wail  of  his  children,  might  tell  of  the  up 
lifted  tomahawk,  or  the  murderous  scalping- 
knife. 

His  courage,  then,  was  not  ignorance  of  dan 
ger —  not  that  of  the  child,  which  thrusts  its 
hand  within  the  lion's  jaws,  and  knows  naught 
of  the  penalty  it  braves.  His  ear  was  ever 
listening,  his  eye  was  always  watching,  his 
nerves  were  ever  strung,  for  battle.  He  was  \ 
stout  of  heart,  and  strong  of  hand — he  was 
calm,  sagacious,  unterrified.  He  was  never 


118  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

/ 

i  disconcerted  —  excitement  seldom  moved  him 
!  — bis  mind  was  always  at  its  own  command. 
His  heart  never  lost  its  firmness  —  no  suffering 
could  overcome  him  —  he  was  as  stoical  as  the 
savage,  whose  greatest  glory  is  to  triumph 
amidst  the  most  cruel  tortures.  His  pride  sus 
tained  him  when  his  flesh  was  pierced  with 
burning  brands  —  when  his  muscles  crisped 
and  crackled  in  the  flames.  To  the  force  of 
character,  belonging  to  the  white,  he  added  the 
savage  virtues  of  the  red  man ;  and  many  a 
captive  has  been  rescued  from  the  flames, 
through  his  stern  contempt  for  torture,  and  his 
sneering  triumph  over  his  tormentors.  The 
highest  virtue  of  the  savage  was  his  fortitude  ; 
and  he  respected  and  admired  even  a  "pale 
face,"  who  emulated  his  endurance. 

But  fortitude  is  only  passive  courage  —  and 
the  bravery  of  the  pioneer  was  eminently  ac 
tive.  His  vengeance  was  as  rapid  as  it  was 
sometimes  cruel.  No  odds  against  him  could 
deter  him,  no  time  was  ever  wasted  in  delibera 
tion.  If  a  depredation  was  committed  in  the 
night,  the  dawn  of  morning  found  the  sufferer 
on  the  trail  of  the  marauder.  He  would  follow 
it  for  days,  and  even  weeks,  with  the  sagacity 
of  the  blood-hound,  with  the  patience  of  the 
savage :  and,  perhaps,  in  the  very  midst  of  the 


THE    PIONEER.  119 

Indian  country,  in  some  moment  of  security, 
the  blow  descended,  and  the  injury  was  fear 
fully  avenged!  The  debt  was  never  suffered 
to  accumulate,  when  it  could  be  discharged  by 
prompt  payment  —  and  it  was  never  forgotten  ! 
If  the  account  could  not  be  balanced  now,  the 
obligation  was  treasured  up  for  a  time  to  come 
—  and,  when  least  expected,  the  debtor  came, 
and  paid  with  usury  ! 

It  has  been  said,  perhaps  truly,  that  a  fierce, 
bloody  spirit  ruled  the  settlers  in  those  early 
days.  And  it  is  unquestionable,  that  much  of 
that  contempt  for  the  slow  vengeance  of  a  legal 
proceeding,  which  now  distinguishes  the  peo 
ple  of  the  frontier  west,  originated  then.  It 
was,  doubtless,  an  unforgiving  —  eminently  an 
unchristian — spirit:  but  vengeance,  sure  and 
swift,  was  the  only  thing  which  could  impress 
the  hostile  savage.  And,  if  example,  in  a  mat 
ter  of  this  sort,  could  be  availing,  for  their 
severity  to  the  Indians,  they  had  the  highest ! 

The  eastern  colonists — good  men  and  true 
• —  "  willing  to  exterminate  the  savages,"  says 
Bancroft,*  who  is  certainly  not  their  enemy, 
offered  a  bounty  for  every  Indian  scalp  —  as 

*  History  of  the  United  States,  vol.  iii.,  p.  336.  Enacted  in 
Massachusetts. 


120  WESTERN    CHARACTER?. 

we,  in  the  west,  do  for  the  scalps  of  wolves ! 
"To  regular  forces  under  pay,  the  grant  was 
ten  pounds — to  volunteers,  in  actual  service, 
twice  that  sum  ;  but  if  men  would,  of  them 
selves,  without  pay,  make  up  parties  and  patrol 
the  forests  in  search  of  Indians,  as  of  old  the 
woods  were  scoured  for  wild  beasts,  the  chase 
was  invigorated  by  the  promised  "  encourage 
ment  of  fifty  pounds  per  scalp  !'  r  The  "fruit 
less  cruelties"  of  the  Indian  allies  of  the  French 
in  Canada,  says  the  historian,  gave  birth  to  these 
humane  and  nicely-graduated  enactments  !  Nor 
is  our  admiration  of  their  Christian  spirit  in  the 
least  diminished,  when  we  reflect  that  nothing 
is  recorded  in  history  of  "  bounties  on  scalps" 
or  "encouragement"  to  murder,  offered  by 
Frontenac,  or  any  other  French-Canadian  gov 
ernor,  as  a  revenge  for  the  horrible  massacre  at 
Montreal,  or  the  many  "  fruitless  cruelties"  of 
the  bloody  Iroquois  !* 

The  descendants  of  the  men  who  gave  these 
"bounties"  and  "encouragements,"  have,  in  our 
own  day,  caressed,  and  wept  and  lamented  over 
the  tawny  murderer,  Black-Hawk,  and  his 
"  wrongs"  and  "  misfortunes  ;"  but  the  theatre 

*  A  detailed  and  somewhat  tedious  account  of  these  savage 
inroads,  may  be  found  in  Warburton's  Conquest  of  Canada, 
published  by  Harpers.  New-York.  1850. 


THE   PIONEEK.  121 

of  Indian  warfare  was  then  removed  a  little 
farther  west ;  and  the  atrocities  of  Haverhill 
and  Deerfield  were  perpetrated  on  the  western 
prairies,  and  not  amid  the  forests  of  the  east ! 
Yet  I  do  not  mean,  by  referring  to  this  passage 
of  history  —  or  to  the  rivers  of  wasted  senti 
ment  poured  out  a  few  years  ago  —  so  much  to 
condemn  our  forefathers,  or  to  draw  invidious 
comparisons  between  them  and  others,  as  to 
show,  that  the  war  of  extermination,  sometimes 
waged  by  western  rangers,  was  not  without  ex 
ample —  that  the  cruelty  and  hatred  of  the  pio-- 
neer  to  the  barbarous  Indian,  might  originate 
in  exasperation,  which  even  moved  the  puri 
tans  ;  and  that  the  lamentations,  over  the  ficti 
tious  "  wrongs"  of  a  turbulent  and  bloody  sav 
age,  might  have  run  in  a  channel  nearer  home. 

Hatred  of  the  Indian,  among  the  pioneers, 
was  hereditary ;  there  was  scarcely  a  man  on 
the  frontier,  who  had  not  lost  a  father,  a  moth 
er,  or  a  brother,  by  the  tomahawk ;  and  not  a 
few  of  them  had  suffered  in  their  own  persons. 
The  child,  who  learned  the  rudiments  of  his 
scanty  education  at  his  mother's  knee,  must 
decipher  the  strange  characters  by  the  strag 
gling  light  which  penetrated  the  crevices  be 
tween  the  logs ;  for,  while  the  father  was  ab- 

6 


122  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

sent,  in  the  field  or  on  the  war-path,  the  mother 
was  obliged  to  bar  the  doors  and  barricade  the 
windows  against  the  savages.  Thus,  if  he  did 
not  literally  imbibe  it  with  his  mother's  milk, 
one  of  the  first  things  the  pioneer  learned,  was 
dread,  and  consequently  hatred,  of  the  Indian. 
That  feeling  grew  with  his  growth,  strength 
ened  with  his  strength  —  for  a  life  upon  the 
western  border  left  but  few  days  free  from 
sights  of  blood  or  mementoes  of  the  savage.  The 
pioneer  might  go  to  the  field  in  the  morning, 
unsuspecting ;  and,  at  noon,  returning,  find  his 
wife  murdered  and  scalped,  and  the  brains  of 
his  little  ones  dashed  out  against  his  own  door 
post  !  And  if  a  deadly  hatred  of  the  Indian 
took  possession  of  his  heart,  who  shall  blame 
him?  It  may  be  said,  the  pioneer  was  an  in 
truder,  seeking  to  take  forcible  possession  of  the 
Indian's  lands  —  and  that  it  was  natural  that 
the  Indian  should  resent  the  wrong  after  the 
manner  of  his  race.  Granted  :  and  it  was  quite 
as  natural  that  the  pioneer  should  return  the 
enmity,  after  the  manner  of  his  race  ! 

But  the  pioneer  was  not  an  intruder. 

For  all  the  purposes,  for  which  reason  and  the 
order  of  Providence  authorize  us  to  say,  God 
made  the  earth,  this  continent  was  vacant  — 
uninhabited.  And  —  granting  that  the  savage 


THE    PIONEER.  123 

was  in  possession  —  for  this  is  his  only  ground 
of  title,  as,  indeed,  it  is  the  foundation  of  all 
primary  title  —  there  were  at  the  period  of  the 
first  landing  of  white  men  on  the  continent,  be 
tween  Lake  Superior  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
east  of  the  Mississippi,  about  one  hundred  and 
eighty  thousand  Indians.*  That  region  now 
supports  at  least  twenty  millions  of  civilized 
people,  and  is  capable  of  containing  quite  ten 
times  that  number,  without  crowding !  Now, 
if  God  made  the  earth  for  any  purpose,  it  cer 
tainly  was  not  that  it  should  be  monopolized  by 
a  horde  of  nomad  savages ! 

But  an  argument  on  this  subject,  would  not 
be  worth  ink  and  paper  ;  and  I  am,  moreover, 
aware,  that  this  reasoning  may  be  abused. 
Any  attempt  to  construe  the  purposes  of  Deity 
must  be  liable  to  the  same  misapplication. 
And,  besides,  it  is  not  my  design  to  go  so 
far  back  ;  I  seek  not  so  much  to  excuse  as  to  ac 
count  for — less  to  justify  than  to  analyze — the 
characteristics  of  the  class  before  me.  I  wish 
to  establish  that  the  pioneer  hatred  of  the  In 
dian  was  not  an  unprovoked  or  groundless 
hatred,  that  the  severity  of  his  warfare  was  not 

*This  is  the  estimate  of  Bancroft  —  and,  I  think,  at  least, 
thirty  thousand  too  liberal.  If  the  number  were  doubled, 
however,  it  would  not  weaken  the  position  in  the  text. 


124.  WESTERN    CIIARACTEHS. 

a  mere  gratuitous  and  bloody-minded  cruelty. 
There  are  a  thousand  actions,  of  which  we 
are  hearing  every  day,  that  are  indefensible  in 
morals :  and  yet  we  are  conscious  while  we 
condemn  the  actors,  that,  in  like  circumstances, 
we  could  not  have  acted  differently.  So  is  it 
with  the  fierce  and  violent  reprisals,  sometimes 
made  by  frontier  rangers.  Their  best  defence 
lies  in  the  statement  that  they  were  men,  and 
that  their  manhood  prompted  them  to  ven 
geance.  "When  they  deemed  themselves  in 
jured,  they  demanded  reparation,  in  such  sort 
as  that  demand  could  then  be  made  —  at  the 
muzzle  of  a  rifle  or  the  point  of  a  knife.  They 
were  equal  to  the  times  in  which  they  lived. — 
Had  they  not  been  so,  how  many  steamboats 
would  now  be  floating  on  the  Mississippi  ? 

There  was  no  romance  in  the  composition  of 
the  pioneer  —  whatever  there  may  have  been 
in  his  environment.  His  life  was  altogether 
too  serious  a  matter  for  poetry,  and  the  only 
music  he  iook  pleasure  in,  was  the  sound  of  a 
violin,  sending  forth  notes  remarkable  only  for 
their  liveliness.  Even  this,  he  could  enjoy  but 
at  rare  periods,  when  his  cares  were  forcibly 
dismissed.  He  was,  in  truth,  a  very  matter-of- 
fact  sort  of  person.  It  was  principally  with 


THE   riONEEE.  325 


facts  that  lie  had  to  deal  —  and  most  of  them 
were  very  "  stubborn  facts."  Indeed,  it  may 
be  doubted  —  notwithstanding  much  good  poet 
ry  has  been  written  (in  cities  chiefly),  on  soli 
tude  and  the  wilderness  —  whether  a  life  in  the 
woods  is,  after  all,  very  suggestive  of  poetical 
thoughts.  The  perils  of  the  frontier  must  bor 
row  most  of  their  "  enchantment"  from  the 
"  distance  ;"  and  its  sufferings  and  hardships 
are  certainly  more  likely  to  evoke  pleasant 
fancies  to  him  who  sits  beside  a  good  coal  fire, 
than  to  one  whose  lot  it  is  to  bear  them.  Even 
the  (so-called)  "  varied  imagery"  of  the  Indian's 
eloquence  —  about  which  so  much  nonsense 
has  been  written  —  is,  in  a  far  greater  measure, 
the  result  of  the  poverty  and  crude  materialism 
of  his  language,  than  of  any  poetical  bias,  tem 
perament,  or  tone  of  thought.  An  Indian,  as 
we  have  said  before,  has  no  humor  —  he  never 
understands  a  jest  —  his  wife  is  a  beast  of  bur 
then  —  heaven  is  a  hunting-ground  —  his  lan 
guage  has  no  words  to  express  abstract  quali 
ties,  virtues,  or  sentiments.  And  yet  he  lives 
in  the  wilderness  all  the  days  of  his  life  !  The 
only  trait  he  has,  in  common  with  the  poetical 
character,  is  his  laziness. 

But   the  pioneer   was  not  indolent,  in  any 
sense.     He  had  no   dreaminess  —  meditation 


126  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

was  no  part  of  his  mental  habit —  a  poetical 
fancy  would,  in  him,  have  been  an  indication 
of  insanity.  If  he  reclined  at  the  foot  of  a  tree, 
on  a  "still  summer  day,  it  was  to  sleep:  if  he 
gazed  out  over  the  waving  prairie,  it  was  to 
search  for  the  column  of  smoke  which  told  of 
his  enemy's  approach :  if  he  turned  his  eyes 
toward  the  blue  heaven,  it  was  to  prognosticate 
to-morrow's  storm  or  sunshine :  if  he  bent  his 
gaze  upon  the  green  earth,  it  was  to  look  for 
"  Indian  sign"  or  buffalo  trail.  His  wife  was  only 
a  help-mate' — he  never  thought  of  making  a  di 
vinity  of  her  —  she  cooked  his  dinner,  made 
and  washed  his  clothes,  bore  his  children,  and 
took  care  of  his  household.  His  children  were 
never  "little  ch'erubs,"* — "angels  sent  from 
heaven" — but  generally  "  tow-headed"  and 
very  earthly  responsibilities.  He  looked  for 
ward  anxiously,  to  the  day  when  the  boys 
should  be  able  to  assist  him  in  the  field,  or  fight 
the  Indian,  and  the  girls  to  help  their  mother 
make  and  mend.  When  one  of  the  latter  took 
it  into  her  head  to  be  married — as  they  usually 
did  quite  early  in  life ;  for  beaux  were  plenty 
and  belles  were  "  scarce" — he  only  made  one 
condition,  that  the  man  of  her  choice  should  be 
brave  and  healthy.  He  never  made  a  "  pa 
rade"  about  anything  —  marriage,  least  of  all. 


THE  PIONEER.  127 


He  usually  gave  tlie  bride  —  not  the  "  blush 
ing"  bride  —  a  bed,  a  lean  horse,  and  some 
good  advice  :  and;  having  thus  discharged  his 
duty  in  the  premises,  returned  to  his  work,  and 
the  business  was  done. 


riiarTTa'gQ^ereinony,  in  those  days,  was  a 
very  unceremonious  affair.  The  parade  and 
drill  which  now  attend  it,  would  then  have 
been  as  ridiculous  as  a  Chinese  dance  ;  and  the 
finery  and  ornament,  at  present  understood  to 
be  indispensable  on  such  occasions,  then  bore 
no  sway  in  fashion.  Bridal  wreaths  and  dresses 
were  not  known  ;  and  white  kid  gloves  and 
satin  slippers  never  heard  of.  Orange  blossoms 
—  natural  and  artificial  —  were  as  pretty  then 
as  now;  but  the  people  were  more  occupied 
with  substance,  than  with  emblem. 

The  ancients  decked  their  victims  for  the 
sacrifice  with  gaudy  colors,  flags,  and  stream 
ers  ;  the  moderns  do  the  same,  and  the  offer 
ings  are  sometimes  made  to  quite  as  barbarous 
deities. 

But  the  bride  of  the  pioneer  was  clothed  in 
linsey-wolsey,  with  hose  of  woollen  yarn  ;  and 
moccasins  of  deer-skin  —  or  as  an  extra  piece 
of  finery,  high-quartered  shoes  of  calf-skin  —  pre- 


128  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

ceded  satin  slippers.  The  bridegroom  came  in 
copperas-colored  jeans  —  domestic  manufacture 
—  as  a  holiday  suit;  or,  perhaps,  a  hunting- 
shirt  of  buckskin,  all  fringed  around  the  skirt 
and  cape,  and  a  "  coon-skin'7  cap,  with  mocca 
sins.  Instead  of  a  dainty  walking-stick,  with 
an  opera-dancer's  leg,  in  ivory,  for  head,  he  al- 
wrays  brought  his  rifle,  with  a  solid  maple  stock ; 
and  never,  during  the  whole  ceremony,  did  lie 
divest  himself  of  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch. 
Protestant  ministers  of  the  gospel  were  few 
in  those  days ;  and  the  words  of  form  were 
usually  spoken  by  a  Jesuit  missionary.  Or,  if 
the  Pioneer  had  objections  to  Catholicism  —  as 
many  had  —  his  place  was  supplied  by  some 
justice  of  the  peace,  of  doubtful  powers  and 
mythical  appointment.  If  neither  of  these 
could  be  procured,  the  father  of  the  bride,  him 
self,  sometimes  assumed  the  functions, pro  lido 
vice,  or  pro  tempore,  of  minister  or  justice.  It 
was  always  understood,  however,  that  such 
left-handed  marriages  were  to  be  confirmed  by 
the  first  minister  who  wandered  to  the  frontier: 
and,  even  when  the  opportunity  did  not  offer 
for  many  months,  no  scandal  ever  arose  —  the 
marriage  vow  was  never  broken.  The  pioneers 
were  simple  people  —  the  refinements  of  high 
cultivation  had  not  yet  penetrated  the  forests 


THE   PIONEER.  129 

or  crossed  the  prairies  —  and  good  faith  and 
virtue  were  as  common  as  courage  and  sagacity. 

When  the  brief,  but  all-sufficient  ceremony 
was  over,  the  bridegroom  resumed  his  rifle, 
helped  the  bride  into  the  saddle  —  or  more  fre 
quently  to  the  pillion  behind  him  —  and  they 
calmly  rode  away  together. 

On  some  pleasant  spot  —  surrounded  by  a 
shady  grove,  or  point  of  timber — a  new  log-cabin 
has  been  built :  its  rough  logs  notched  across 
each  other  at  the  corners,  a  roof  of  oaken  clap 
boards,  held  firmly  down  by  long  poles  along 
each  course,  its  floor  of  heavy  "  puncheons,"  its 
broad,  cheerful  fireplace,  large  as  a  modern 
bed-room  —  all  are  in  the  highest  style  of  fron 
tier  architecture.  Within  —  excepting  some 
anomalies,  such  as  putting  the  skillet  and  tea 
kettle  in  the  little  cupboard,  along  with  the 
blue-edged  plates  and  yellow-figured  tea-cups 
—  for  the  whole  has  been  arranged  by  the 
hands  of  the  bridegroom  himself  —  everything 
is  neatly  and  properly  disposed.  The  oaken 
bedstead,  with  low  square  posts,  stands  in  one 
corner,  and  the  bed  is  covered  by  a  pure  white 
counterpane,  with  fringe  —  an  heirloom  in  the 
family  of  the  bride.  At  the  foot  of  this  is  seen 


130  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

a  large,  heavy  chest — like  a  camp-chest  —  to 
serve  for  bureau,  safe,  and  dressing-case. 

In  the  middle  of  the  floor  —  directly  above  a 
trap-door  which  leads  to  a  "potato-hole"  be 
neath —  stands  a  ponderous  walnut  table,  and 
on  it  sits  a  nest  of  wooden  trays ;  while,  flank 
ing  these,  on  one  side,  is  a  nicely-folded  table 
cloth,  and,  on  the  other,  a  wooden-handled 
butcher-knife  and  a  well-worn  Bible.  Around 
the  room  are  ranged  a  few  "  split-bottomed" 
chairs,  exclusively  for  use,  not  ornament.  In 
the  chimney-corners,  or  under  the  table,  are 
several  three-legged  stools,  made  for  the  chil 
dren,  who- — 'as  the  bridegroom  laughingly  in 
sinuates  while  he  points  to  the  uncouth  speci 
mens  of  his  handiwork  —  "will  be  coining  in 
due  time."  The  wife  laughs  in  her  turn  —  re 
plies,  "no  doubt" —  and,  taking  one  of  the  grace 
ful  tripods  in  her  hand,  carries  it  forth  to  sit  upon 
while  she  milks  the  cow  —  for  she  understands 
what  she  is  expected  to  do,  and  does  it  without 
delay.  In  one  corner  —  near  the  fireplace  — 
the  aforesaid  cupboard  is  erected  —  being  a 
few  oaken  shelves  neatly  pinned  to  the  logs 
with  hickory  forks  —  and  in  this  are  arranged 
the  plates  and  cups;  —  not  as  the  honest  pride 
of  the  housewife  would  arrange  them,  to  dis 
play  them  to  the  best  advantage  —  but  piled 


THE    PIONEEK.  131 

away,  one  within  another,  without  reference  to 
show.  As  yet  there  is  no  sign  of  female  taste 
or  presence. 

But  now  the  house  receives  its  mistress.  The 
"  happy  couple"  ride  up  to  the  low  rail-fence 
in  front  —  the  bride  springs  off  without  assist 
ance,  affectation,  or  delay.  The  husband  leads 
away  the  horse  or  horses,  and  the  wife  enters 
the  dominion,  where,  thenceforward,  she  is 
queen.  There  is  no  coyness,  no  blushing,  no 
pretence  of  fright  or  nervousness — if  you  will, 
no  romance  —  for  which  the  husband  has  rea 
son  to  be  thankful !  The  wife  knows  what  her 
duties  are  and  resolutely  goes  about  performing 
them.  She  never  dreamed,  nor  twaddled,  about 
"  love  in  a  cottage,"  or  "  the  sweet  communion 
of  congenial  souls"  (who  never  eat  anything) : 
and  she  is,  therefore,  not  disappointed  on  dis 
covering  that  life  is  actually  a  serious  thing. 
She  never  whines  about  "  making  her  husband 
happy" — but  sets  firmly  and  sensibly  about 
making  him  comfortable.  She  cooks  his  din 
ner,  nurses  his  children,  shares  his  hardships, 
and  encourages  his  industry.  She  never  com 
plains  of  having  too  much  work  to  do,  she  does 
not  desert  her  home  to  make  endless  visits  — 
she  borrows  no  misfortunes,  lias  no  imaginary 


132  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

ailings.  Milliners  and  mantua-makers  she  ig 
nores — "  shopping"  she  never  heard  of — scan 
dal  she  never  invents  or  listens  to.  She  never 
wishes  for  fine  carriages,  professes  no  inability 
to  walk  five  hundred  yards,  and  does  not  think 
it  a  "  vulgar  accomplishment,"  to  know  how  to 
make  butter.  She  has  no  groundless  anxieties, 
she  is  not  nervous  about  her  children  taking 
cold :  a  doctor  is  a  visionary  potentate  to  her 
—  a  drug-shop  is  a  depot  of  abominations.  She 
never  forgets  whose  wife  she  is, —  there  is  no 
"  sweet  confidante"  without  whom  she  "  can  not 
live" — she  never  writes  endless  letters  about 
nothing.  She  is,  in  short,  a  faithful,  honest 
wife :  and,  "  in  due  time,"  the  husband  must 
make  more  "  three-legged  stools" — for  the  "  tow- 
heads"  have  now  covered  them  all ! 

Such  is  the  wife  and  mother  of  the  pioneer, 
and,  with  such  influences  about  him,  how  could 
he  be  otherwise  than  honest,  straightforward, 
and  manly  ? 

But,  though  a  life  in  the  woods  was  an  enemy 
to  every  sort  of  sentimentalism — though  a  more 
unromantic  being  than  the  pioneer  can  hardly 
be  imagined — yet  his  character  unquestionably 
took  its  hue,  from  the  primitive  scenes  and 


THE   PIONEER.  133 

events  of  his  solitary  existence.  He  was,  in 
many  things,  as  simple  as  a  child:  as  credulous, 
as  unsophisticated.  Yet  the  utmost  cunning  of 
the  wily  savage  —  all  the  strategy  of  Indian 
warfare — was  not  sufficient  to  deceive  or  over 
reach  him !  Though  one  might  have  expected 
that  his  life  of  ceaseless  watchfulness  would 
make  him  skeptical  and  suspicious,  his  confi 
dence  was  given  heartily,  without  reservation, 
and  often  most  imprudently.  If  he  gave  his 
trust  at  all,  you  might  ply  him,  by  the  hour, 
with  the  most  improbable  and  outrageous  fic 
tions,  without  fear  of  contradiction  or  of  un 
belief.  He  never  questioned  the  superior 
knowledge  or  pretensions  of  any  one  who 
claimed  acquaintance  with  subjects  of  which 
he  was  ignorant. 

The  character  of  his  intellect,  like  that  of  the 
Indian,  was  thoroughly  synthetical :  he  had 
nothing  of  the  faculty  which  enables  us  to  de 
tect  falsehood,  even  in  matters  of  which  we 
know  nothing  by  comparison  and  analogy.  He 
never  analyzed  any  story  told  him,  he  took  it 
as  a  unit;  and,  unless  it  violated  some  known 
principle  of  his  experience,  or  conflicted  with 
some  fact  of  his  own  observation,  never  doubted 
its  truth.  At  this  moment,  there  are  men  in 
every  western  settlement  who  have  only  vague, 


134:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

crude  notions  of  what  a  city  is  —  who  would 
feel  nervous  if  they  stepped  upon  the  deck  of  a 
steamboat — 'and  are  utterly  at  a  loss  to  conjec 
ture  the  nature  of  a  railroad.  Upon  either  of 
these  mystical  subjects  they  will  swallow,  with 
out  straining,  the  most  absurd  and  impossible 
fictions.  And  this  is  not  because  of  their  igno 
rance  alone,  for  many  of  them  are,  for  their 
sphere  in  life,  educated,  intelligent,  and,  what  is 
better,  sensible  men.  Nor  is  it  by  any  means 
a  national  trait :  for  a  genuine  Yankee  will 
scarcely  believe  the  truth ;  and,  though  he  may 
sometimes  trust  in  very  wild  things,  his  faith  is 
usually  an  active  "  craze,"  and  not  mere  passive 
credulity.  The  pioneer,  then,  has  not  derived  it 
from  his  eastern  fathers  :  it  is  the  growth  of  the 
woods  and  prairies  —  an  embellishment  to  a 
character  which  might  otherwise  appear  naked 
and  severe. 

Another  characteristic,  traceable  to  the  same 
source,  the  stern  reality  of  his  life,  is  the  pioneer's 
gravity. 

The  agricultural  population  of  this  country 
are,  at  the  best,  not  a  cheerful  race.  Though 
they  sometimes  join  in  festivities,  it  is  but 
seldom  ;  and  the  wildness  of  their  dissipation  is 
too  often  in  proportion  to  its  infrequency.  There 


THE    PIONEER.  135 

is  none  of  the  serene  contentment  —  none  of 
that  smiling  enjoyment  —  which,  according  to 
travellers  like  Howitt,  distinguishes  the  tillers 
of  the  ground  in  other  lands.  Sedateness  is  a 
national  characteristic,  but  the  gravity  of  the 
pioneer  is  quite  another  thing ;  it  includes 
pride  and  personal  dignity,  and  indicates  a 
stern,  unyielding  temper.  There  is,  however, 
nothing  morose  in  it :  it  is  its  aspect  alone, 
which  forbids  approach  ;  and  that  only  makes 
more  conspicuous  the  heartiness  of  your  recep 
tion,  when  once  the  shell  is  broken.  Acquainted 
with  the  character,  you  do  not  expect  him  to 
smile  much  ;  but  now  and  then  he  laughs :  and 
that  laugh  is  round,  free,  and  hearty.  You 
know  at  once  that  he  enjoys  it,  you  are  con 
vinced  that  he  is  a  firm  friend  and  "a  good 
hater." 

It  is  not  surprising,  with  a  character  such  as 
I  have  described,  that  the  pioneer  is  not  grega 
rious,  that  he  is,  indeed,  rather  solitary.  Ac 
cordingly,  we  never  find  a  genuine  specimen  of 
the  class,  among  the  emigrants,  who  come  in 
shoals  and  flocks,  and  pitch  their  tents  in  "  colo 
nies  ;"  who  lay  out  towns  and  cities,  projected 
upon  paper,  and  call  them  New  Boston,  New 
Albany,  or  New  Hartford,  before  one  log  is 


136  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

placed  upon  another  ;  nor  are  there  many  of  the 
unadulterated  stock  among  that  other  class,  who 
come  from  regions  further  south,  and  christen 
their  towns,  classically,  Carthage,  Rome,  or 
Athens  :  or,  patriotically,  in  commemoration  of 
some  Virginian  worthy,  some  Maryland  sharp 
shooter,  or  "  Jersey  blue." 

The  real  pioneer  never  emigrates  gregarious 
ly  ;  he  does  not  wish  to  be  within  "  halloo"  of 
his  nearest  neighbor  ;  he  is  no  city-builder;  and, 
if  he  does  project  a  town,  he  christens  it  by 
some  such  name  as  Boonville  or  Clarksville,  in 
memory  of  a  noted  pioneer :  or  Jacksonville  or 
"Waynesville,  to  commemorate  some  "  old  hero" 
who  was  celebrated  for  good  fighting.*  And 
the  reason  why  the  outlandish  and  outre  so  much 
predominate  in  the  names  of  western  towns 
and  cities,  must  be  sought  in  the  fact  referred 

*  On  the  subject  of  naming  towns,  much  might  hare  been 
said  in  the  preceding  article  in  favor  of  French  taste,  and  espe 
cially  that  just  and  unpretending  taste,  which  led  them  almost 
alway  to  retain  the  Indian  names.  While  the  American  has 
pretentiously  imported  from  the  Old  World  such  names  as 
Venice,  Carthage,  Rome,  Athens,  and  even  London  and  Paris, 
or  has  transferred  from  the  eastern  states,  Boston,  Philadelphia, 
Baltimore,  and  New  York,  the  Frenchman,  with  a  better  judg 
ment,  has  retained  such  Indian  names  as  Chicago,  Peoria,  Kas- 
kaskia,  Cahokia,  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  Missouri,  Wabash,  and  Mis 
sissippi. 


THE   PIONEER.  137 

to  above,  that  the  western  man  is  not  essentially 
a  town-projector,  and  that,  consequently,  com 
paratively  few  of  the  towns  were  "  laid  out"  by 
the  legitimate  pioneer.  We  shall  have  more  to 
say  of  town-building  under  another  head  ;  and, 
in  the  meantime,  having  said  that  the  pioneer 
is  not  gregarious,  let  us  look  at  the  manner  of 
his  emigration. 

Many  a  time,  in  the  western  highways,  have 
I  met  with  the  sturdy  "  mover,"  as  he  is  called, 
in  the  places  where  people  are  stationary  — 
a  family,  sometimes  by  no  means  small,  wan 
dering  toward  the  setting  sun,  in  search  of 
pleasant  places  on  the  lands  of  "  Uncle  Sam." 
Many  a  time,  in  the  forest  or  on  the  prairie  — 
generally  upon  some  point  of  timber  which  puts 
a  mile  or  two  within  the  plain  —  have  I  passed 
the  "  clearing,"  of  "  pre-emption,"  where,  with 
nervous  arm  and  sturdy  heart,  the  "  squatter"* 
cleaves  out,  and  renders  habitable,  a  home  for 
himself  and  a  heritage  for  his  children. 

Upon  the  road,  you  first  meet  the  pioneer  him- 

*  This  word  is  a  pregnant  memento  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  vain  words  of  flippant  orators  fall,  innocuous,  to  the  ground, 
when  they  attempt  to  stigmatize,  with  contemptuous  terms, " 
the  truly  noble.  "Squatter"  is  now,  in  the  west,  only  another 
name  for  "Pioneer,"  and  that  word  describes  all  that  is  ad 
mirable  in  courage,  truth,  and  manhood! 


138  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

self,  for  he  almost  always  walks  a  few  hundred 
yards  ahead.  He  is  usually  above  the  medium 
height,  and  rather  spare.  He  stoops  a  little, 
too  ;  for  he  has  done  a  deal  of  hard  work,  and 
expects  to  do  more  ;  but  you  see  at  once,  that 
unless  his  lungs  are  weak,  his  strength  is  by  no 
means  broken,  and  you  are  quite  sure  that  many 
a  stately  tree  is  destined  to  be  humbled  by  his 
sinewy  arm.  He  is  attired  in  frontier  fashion  : 
he  wears  a  loose  coat,  called  a  hunting-shirt,  of 
jeans  or  linsey,  and  its  color  is  that  indescriba 
ble  hue  compounded  of  copperas  and  madder ; 
pantaloons,  exceedingly  loose,  and  not  very  ac 
curately  cut  in  any  part,  of  like  color  and 
material,  defend  his  lower  limbs.  His  feet  are 
cased  in  low,  fox-colored  shoes,  for  of  boots,  he 
is,  yet,  quite  innocent.  Around  his  throat  and 
wrists,  even  in  midsummer,  you  see  the  collar 
and  wristbands  of  a  heavy,  deep-red,  flannel- 
shirt.  Examine  him  very  closely-,  and  you  will 
probably  find  r.o  other  garment  on  his  person. 

His  hair  is  dark,  and  not  very  evenly  trim 
med —  for  his  wife  or  daughter  has  performed 
the  tonsure  with  a  pair  of  rusty  shears  ;  and  the 
longer  locks  seem  changed  in  hue,  as  if  his 
dingy  wool  hat  did  not  sufficiently  protect  them 
against  the  wind  and  rain.  Over  his  shoulder 
he  carries  a  heavy  rifle,  heavier  than  a  "  liar- 


THE   PIONEER.  139 

per's  ferry  musket,"  running  about  "  fifty  to  the 
pound."  Around  his  neck  are  swung  the 
powder-horn  and  bullet-ponch,  the  former  pro 
tected  by  a  square  of  deer-skin,  and  the  latter 
ornamented  with  a  squirrel's  tail. 

You  take  note  of  all  these  things,  and  then 
recur  to  his  melancholy-looking  face,  with  its 
mild  blue  eyes  and  sharpened  features.  You 
think  he  looks  thin,  and  conjecture  that  his  chest 
may  be  weak,  or  his  lungs  affected,  by  the  stoop 
in  his  shoulders  ;  but  when  he  lifts  his  eyes,  and 
asks  the  way  to  Thompson's,  ferry,  or  how  far  it 
is  to  water,  you  are  satisfied :  for  the  glance  of 
his  eye  is  calm  and  firm,  and  the  tone  of  his 
voice  is  round  and  healthy.  You  answer  his 
question,  he  nods  quietly  by  way  of  thanks,  and 
marches  on  ;  and,  though  you  draw  your  rein, 
and  seem  inclined  to  further  converse,  he  takes 
no  notice,  and  pursues  his  way. 

A  few  minutes  afterward,  you  meet  the  family. 
A  small,  light  wagon,  easily  dragged  through 
sloughs  and  heavy  roads,  is  covered  with  a  white 
cotton  cloth,  and  drawn,  by  either  two  yokes  of 
oxen,  or  a  pair  of  lean  horses.  A  "  patch-work" 
quilt  is  sometimes  stretched  across  the  flimsy 
covering,  as  a  guard  against  the  sun  and  rain. 
Within  this  vehicle  are  stowed  all  the  emigrant's 
household  goods,  and  still,  it  is  not  overloaded. 


140  WESTERN   CHAEACTEES. 

There  is  usually  a  large  chest,  containing  the 
wardrobe  of  the  family,  with  such  small  articles 
as  are  liable  to  loss,  and  the  little  store  of  money. 
This  is  always  in  silver,  for  the  pioneer  is  no 
judge  of  gold,  and,  on  the  frontier,  paper  has 
but  little  exchangeable  value.  There  are  then 
two  light  bedsteads  —  one  "  a  trundle-bed"  —  a 
few  plain  chairs,  most  of  them  tied  on  behind 
and  at  the  sides  ;  three  or  four  stools,  domestic 
manufacture  ;  a  set  of  tent-poles  and  a  few  pots 
and  pans.  On  these  are  piled  the  "beds  and 
bedding,"  tied  in  large  bundles,  and  stowed  in 
such  manner  as  to  make  convenient  room  for  the 
children  who  are  too  young  to  walk.  In  the 
front  end  of  the  wagon,  sits  the  mother  of  the 
family :  and,  peering  over  her  head  and  shoul 
ders,  leaning  out  at  her  side,  or  gazing  under 
the  edge  of  the  cotton-covering,  are  numerous 
flaxen  heads,  which  you  find  it  difficult  to  count 
while  you  ride  past. 

There  are  altogether  too  many  of  them,  you 
think,  for  a  man  no  older  than  the  one  you  met, 
a  while  ago;  and  you,  perhaps,  conjecture  that 
the  youthful-looking  woman  has  adopted  some 
of  her  dead  sister's  children,  or,  perchance,  some 
of  her  brothers  and  sisters  themselves.  But 
you  are  mistaken,  they  are  all  her  offspring,  and 


THE   PIONEER.  141 

the  father  of  every  one  of  them  is  the  stoop- 
shouldered  man  you  saw  ahead.  If  you  look 
closely,  you  will  observe  that  the  mother,  who 
is  driving,  holds  the  reins  with  one  hand,  while, 
on  the  other  arm,  she  supports  an  infant  not 
more  than  six  months  old.  It  was  for  the  advent 
of  this  little  stranger,  that  they  delayed  their 
emigration :  and  they  set  out  while  it  was  very 
young,  for  fear  of  the  approach  of  its  successor. 
If  they  waited  for  their  youngest  child  to  attain 
a  year  of  age,  they  would  never  "  move," 
until  they  would  be  too  old  to  make  another 
"  clearing." 

You  pass  on  —  perhaps  ejaculating  thanks 
that  your  lot  has  been  differently  cast,  and 
thinking  you  have  seen  the  last  of  them. 
But  a  few  hundred  yards  further,  and  you  hear 
the  tinkling;  of  a  bell ;  two  or  three  lean  cows 

o  ' 

—  with  calves  about  the  age  of  the  baby  — 
come  straggling  by.  You  look  for  the  driver, 
and  see  a  tall  girl  with  a  very  young  face  — 
the  eldest  of  the  family,  though  not  exceeding 
twelve  or  thirteen  years  in  age.  You  feel  quite 
sure,  that,  besides  her  sun-bonnet  and  well- 
worn  shoes,  she  wears  but  one  article  of  ap 
parel —  and  that  a  loose  dress  of  linsey,  rather 
narrow  in  the  skirt,  of  a  dirty  brown  color,  with 
a  tinge  of  red.  It  hangs  straight  down  about 


142  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

her  limbs,  as  if  it  were  wet,  and  with  every 
step  —  for  she  walks  stoutly  —  it  flaps  and  flies 
about  her  ankles,  as  if  shotted  in  the  lower  hem. 
She  presents,  altogether,  rather  a  slatternly 
figure,  and  her  face  is  freckled  and  sunburnt. 

But  you  must  not  judge  her  too  rashly;  for 
her  eye  is  keen  and  expressive,  and  her  mouth 
is  quite  pretty  —  especially  when  she  smiles. 
A  few  years  hence — if  you  have  the  entree  — 
you  may  meet  her  in  the  best  and  highest  cir 
cles  of  the  country.  Perhaps,  while  you  are 
dancing  attendance  upon  some  new  administra 
tion,  asking  for  a  "  place,"  and  asking,  prob 
ably,  in  vain,  she  may  come  to  Washington,  a 
beautiful  and  accomplished  woman  —  the  wife 
of  some  member  of  Congress,  whose  constitu 
ency  is  numbered  by  the  hundred  thousand  ! 

You  may  pass  on,  now,  and  forget  her ;  but, 
if  you  stop  to  talk  five  minutes,  she  will  not 
forget  you —  at  least,  if  you  say  anything  stri 
king  or  sensible.  And  when  you  meet  her  again, 
perhaps  in  a  gilded  saloon,  among  the  brightest 
and  highest  in  the  land — if  you  seek  an  intro 
duction,  as  you  probably  will  —  she  will  remind 
you  of  the  meeting,  and  to  your  astonishment, 
will  laughingly  describe  the  scene,  to  some  of 
her  obsequious  friends  who  stand  around.  And 
then  she  will  perhaps  introduce  you,  as  an  old 


THE   PIONEER.  143 

friend,  to  one  of  those  flax-haired  boys,  who 
peeped  out  of  the  wagon  over  his  mother's 
shoulder,  as  you  passed  them  in  the  wilderness : 
and  you  recognise  one  of  the  members  from 
California,  or  from  Oregon,  whose  influence  in 
the  house,  though  he  is  as  yet  a  very  young  man, 
is  already  quite  considerable.  If  you  are  suc 
cessful  in  your  application  for  a  "place,"  it 
may  be  that  the  casual  meeting  in  the  forest  or 
on  the  prairie  was  the  seed  which,  germinating 
through  long  years  of  obscurity,  finally  sprung 
up  thus,  and  bore  a  crop  of  high  official  honors ! 

The  next  time  you  meet  a  family  of  emigrants 
on  the  frontier,  you  will  probably  observe  them 
a  little  more  closely. 

Not  a  few  of  those  who  bear  a  prominent 
part  in  the  government  of  our  country  —  more 
than  one  of  the  first  men  of  the  nation  —  men 
whose  names  are  now  heard  in  connection  with 
the  highest  office  of  the  people  —  twenty  years 
ago,  occupied  a  place  as  humble  in  the  scale  of 
influence,  as  that  flaxen-haired  son  of  the  stoop- 
shouldered  emigrant.  Such  are  the  elements 
of  our  civilization  —  such  the  spirit  of  our  in 
stitutions  ! 


14:4:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

We  have  hitherto  been  speaking  only  of  the 
American  pioneer,  and  we  have  devoted  more 
space  to  him,  than  we  shall  give  to  his  contem 
poraries,  because  he  has  exerted  more  influence, 
both  in  the  settlement  of  the  country,  and  in 
the  formation  of  sectional  character  and  social 
peculiarities,  than  all  the  rest  combined. 

The  French  emigrant  was  quite  a  different 
being.  Even  at  this  day/  there  are  no  two 
classes  —  not  the  eastern  and  western,  or  the 
northern  and  southern — between  whom  the 
distinction  is  more  marked,  than  it  has  always 
been  between  the  Saxon  and  the  Frank.  The 
advent  of  the  latter  was  much  earlier  than  that 
of  the  former;  and  to  him,  therefore,  must  be 
ascribed  the  credit  of  the  first  settlement  of  the 
country.  But,  for  all  purposes  of  lasting  im 
pression,  he  must  yield  to  his  successor.  It 
was,  in  fact,  the  American  who  penetrated  and 
cleared  the  forest  —  who  subdued  and  drove  out 
the  Indian  —  who,  in  a  word,  reclaimed  the 
country. 

In  nothing  was  the  distinction  between  the 
two  races  broader,  than  in  the  feelings  with 
which  they  approached  the  savage.  We  have 
seen  that  the  hatred,  borne  by  the  American 
toward  his  red  enemy,  was  to  be  traced  to  a 


THE   PIONEEJK. 

long  series  of  mutual  hostilities  and  wrongs. 
But  the  Frenchman  had  no  such  injuries  to 
avenge,  no  hereditary  feud  to  prosecute.  The 
first  of  his  nation  who  had  entered  the  country- 
were  non-combatants  —  they  came  to  convert 
the  savage,  not  to  conquer  him,  or  deprive  him 
of  his  lands.  Even  as  early  as  sixteen  hundred 
and  eight,  the  Jesuits  had  established  friendly 
relations  with  the  Indians  of  Canada — and  be 
fore  the  stern  crew  of  the  May  Flower  had  land 
ed  on  Plymouth  Rock,  they  had  preached  the 
gospel  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Huron.  Their 
piety  and  wisdom  had  acquired  an  influence 
over  the  untutored  Indian,  long  before  the  com 
mencement  of  the  hostilities,  which  afterward 
cost  so  much  blood  and  suffering.  They  had, 
thus,  smoothed  the  way  for  their  countrymen, 
and  opened  a  safe  path  through  the  wilderness, 
to  the  shore  of  the  great  western  waters.  And 
the  people  who  followed  and  accompanied  them, 
were  peculiarly  adapted  to  improve  the  advan 
tages  thus  given  them. 

They  were  a  gentle,  peaceful,  unambitious 
people.  They  came  as  the  friend,  not  the  he 
reditary  enemy,  of  the  savage.  They  tendered 
the  calumet  —  a  symbol  well  understood  by 
every  Indian  —  and  were  received  as  allies  and 
brethren.  They  had  no  national  prejudices  to 
7 


146  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

overcome :  the  copper  color  of  the  Indian  was 
not  an  insuperable  objection  to  intermarriage, 
and  children  of  the  mixed  blood  were  not,  for 
that  reason,  objects  of  scorn.  An  Indian 
maiden  was  as  much  a  woman  to  a  Frenchman, 
as  if  she  had  been  a  blonde  /  and,  it1  her  form 
was  graceful  and  her  features  comely,  lie  would 
woo  her  with  as  much  ardor  as  if  she  had  been 
one  of  his  own  race. 

Nor  was  this  peculiarity  attributable  only  to 
the  native  gallantry  of  the  French  character, 
as  it  has  sometimes  been  asserted :  the  total 
want  of  prejudice,  which  grows  up  in  contem 
plating  an  inferior  race,  held  in  limited  subjec 
tion,  and  a  certain  easiness  of  temper  and  tone 
of  thought,  had  far  more  influence. 

The  Frenchman  has  quite  enough  vanity, 
but  very  little  pride.  "Whatever,  therefore,  is 
sanctioned  by  those  who  surrounded  him,  is,  in 
his  eyes,  no  degradation.  He  married  the  In 
dian  woman  —  first,  because  there  were  but  few 
females  among  the  emigrants,  and  he  could  not 
live  without  "  the  sex ;"  and,  second,  because 
there  was  nothing  in  his  prejudices,  or  in  pub 
lic  sentiment,  to  deter  him.  The  descendants 
of  these  marriages  —  except  where,  as  in  some 
cases,  they  are  upheld  by  the  possession  of 
great  wealth  —  have  no  consideration,  and  are 


THE   PIONEER.  147 

seldom  seen  in  the  society  of  the  whites.  But 
this  is  only  because  French  manners  and  feel 
ings  have  long  since  faded  out  of  our  social  or- 
ganizationk  The  Saxon,  with  his  unconquer 
able  prejudices  of  race,  with  his  pride  and  jeal 
ousy,  has  taken  possession  of  the  country  ;  and, 
as  he  rules  its  political  destinies,  in  most  places, 
likewise,  gives  tones  to  its  manners.  Had 
Frenchmen  continued  to  possess  the  land  —  had 
French  dominion  not  given  place  to  English — • 
mixture  of  blood  would  have  had  but  little  in 
fluence  on  one's  position  ;  and  there  would  now 
have  been,  in  St.  Louis  or  Chicago,  as  many 
shades  of  color  in  a  social  assembly,  as  may  be 
seen  at  a  ball  in  Mexico. 

The  French  are  a  more  cheerful  people,  than 
the  Americans.  Social  intercourse  —  the  in 
terchange  of  hospitalities  —  the  enjoyment  of 
amusements  in  crowds — are  far  more  import 
ant  to  them  than  to  any  other  race.  Solitude 
and  misery  are — or  ought  to  be  —  synonyms 
in  French;  and  enjoyment  is  like  glory — it 
must  have'  \vitnesses,  or  it  will  lose  its  attrac 
tion.  Accordingly,  we  find  the  French  emi 
grant  seeking  companionship,  even  in  the  trials 
and  enterprises  of  the  wilderness.  The  Ameri 
can,  after  the  manner  of  his  race,  sought  places 


148  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

where  he  could  possess,  for  himself,  enough  for 
his  wants,  and  be  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed." 
But  the  Frenchman  had  no  such  pride.  He 
resorted  to  a  town,  where  the  amusements  of 
dancing,  fetes,  and  social  converse,  were  to  be 
found  —  where  the  narrow  streets  were  scarcely 
more  than  a  division  fence,  "  across  which  the 
women  could  carry  on  their  voluble  conversa 
tions,  without  leaving  their  homes."*  This 
must  have  been  a  great  advantage,  and  prob 
ably  contributed,  in  no  slight  degree,  to  the 
singular  peace  of  their  villages — since  the 
proximity  afforded  no  temptation  to  going 
abroad,  and  the  distance  was  yet  too  great  to 
allow  such  whisperings  and  scandal,  as  usually 
break  up  the  harmony  of  small  circles.  Whether 
the  fact  is  to  be  attributed  to  this,  or  to  some 
other  cause,  certain  it  is  that  these  little  com 
munities  were  eminently  peaceful.  From  the 
first  settlement  of  Kaskaskia,  for  example,  down 
to  the  transfer  of  the  western  country  to  the 
British  —  almost  a  century  —  I  find  no  record, 
even  in  the  voluminous  epistolary  chronicles, 
of  any  personal  rencontre,  or  serious  quarrel, 
among  the  inhabitants.  The  same  praise  can 
not  be  given  to  any  American  town  ever  yet 
built. 

*  Perkins's  Western  Annals. 


THE   PIONEER.  149 

A  species  of  communism  seems  to  be  a  por 
tion  of  the  French  character;  for  we  discover, 
that,  even  at  that  early  day,  pay  sans,  or  habi- 
tanSj  collected  together  in  villages,  had  their 
common  fields,  where  the  separate  portion  of 
each  family  was  still  a  part .  of  the  common 
stock  —  and  their  tract  of  pasture-land,  where 
there  was  no  division,  or  separate  property. 
One  enclosure  covered  all  the  fields  of  the  com 
munity,  and  all  submitted  to  regulations  made 
by  the  free  voice  of  the  people. 

If  one  was  sick,  or  employed  in  the  service 
of  the  colony,  or  absent  on  business  of  his  own 
at  planting  or  harvest  time,  his  portion  was  not 
therefore  neglected :  his  ground  was  planted, 
or  his  crop  was  gathered,  by  the  associated 
labor  of  his  neighbors,  as  thoroughly  and  care 
fully  as  if  he  had  been  at  home.  His  family 
had  nothing  to  fear ;  because  in  the  social  code 
of  the  simple  villagers,  each  was  as  much  bound 
to  maintain  the  children  of  his  friend  as  his 
own.  This  state  of  things  might  have  its  in 
conveniences  and  vices  —  of  which,  perhaps, 
the  worst  was  its  tendency  to  merge  the  family 
into  the  community,  and  thus  —  by  obliterating 
the  lines  of  individuality  and  personal  inde 
pendence —  benumbing  enterprise  and  check 
ing  improvements  :  but  it  was  certainly  produc- 


150  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

tive  of  some  good  results,  also.  It  tended  to 
make  people  careful  each  of  the  others  rights, 
kind  to  the  afflicted,  and  brotherly  in  their 
social  intercourse.  The  attractive  simplicity 
of  manners  observable,  even  at  this  day,  in 
some  of  the  old  French  villages,  is  traceable  to 
this  peculiar  form  of  their  early  organization. 

It  would  be  well  if  that  primitive  simplicity 
of  life  and  manners,  could  be  combined  with 
rapid,  or  even  moderate  improvement.  But, 
in  the  present  state  of  the  world,  this  can 
scarcely  be ;  and,  accordingly,  we  find  the 
Frenchman  of  the  passing  year,  differing  but 
little  from  his  ancestor  of  sixteen  hundred  and 
fifty  —  still  living  in  the  old  patriarchal  style, 
still  cultivating  his  share  of  the  common  field, 
and  still  using  the  antiquated  processes  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

But,  though  not  so  active  as  their  neighbors. 

C5  O  / 

the  Americans,  they  were  ever  much  happier. 
They  had  no  ambition  beyond  enough  for  the 
passing  hour:  with  that  they  were  perfectly  con 
tented.  They  were  very  patient  of  the  depriva 
tion,  when  they  had  it  not ;  and  seasons  of 
scarcity  saw  no  cessation  of  music  and  dancing, 
no  abridgment  of  the  jest  and  song.  If  the 
earth  yielded  enough  in  one  year  to  sustain  them 


TTIE    PIONEER.  i,, 

'} 

till  the  next,  the  amount  of  labor  expended  for 
that  object  was  never  increased  —  superfluity 
they  cared  nothing  for :  and  commerce,  save 
such  limited  trade  as  was  necessary  to  provide 
their  few  luxuries,  was  beyond  both  their  capa 
city  and  desires.  The  prolific  soil  was  suffered 
to  retain  its  juices;  it  was  reserved  for  another 
people  to  discover  and  improve  its  infinite  pro 
ductiveness. 

They  were  indolent,  careless,  and  improvident. 
Great  enterprises  were  above  or  below  them. 
Political  interests,  and  the  questions  concerning 
national  dominion,  were  too  exciting  to  charm 
their  gentle  natures.  Their  intelligence  was,  of 
course,  not  of  the  highest  order:  but  they  had 
no  use  for  learning  — literature  was  out  of  place 
in  the  wilderness  —  the  pursuit  of  letters  could 
have  found  no  sympathy,  and  for  solitary  enjoy 
ment,  the  Frenchman  cultivates  nothing.  Life 
was  almost  altogether  sensuous :  and,  though 
their  morals  were  in  keeping  with  their  sim 
plicity,  existence  to  them  was  chiefly  a  physical 
matter.  The  fertility  of  the  soil,  producing  all 
the  necessaries  of  life  with  a  small  amount  of 
labor,  and  the  amenity  of  the  climate,  rendering 
defences  against  winter  but  too  easy,  encouraged 
their  indolence,  and  soothed  their  scanty  energy. 


<£*  AVESTERN    CHABACTEKS. 

A<w 

Aade  no  attempt,"  said  one*  who 
yn  well,  "  to  acquire  land  from  the 
/TO  organize  a  social  system,  to  intro- 
Anicipal  regulations,  or  to  establish  mili- 
•,..  /fences  ;  "but  cheerfully  obeyed  the  priests 
and  the  king's  officers,  and  enjoyed  the  present 
without  troubling  their  heads  about  the  future. 
They  seem  to  have  been  even  careless  as  to  the 
acquisition  of  property,  and  its  transmission  to 
their  heirs.  Finding  themselves  in  a  fruitful, 
country,  abounding  in  game  —  where  the  neces 
saries  of  life  could  be  procured  with  little  labor 
—  where  no  restraints  were  imposed  by  govern 
ment,  and  neither  tribute  nor  personal  service 
was  exacted,  they  were  content  to  live  in  un 
ambitious  peace  and  comfortable  poverty.  They 
took  possession  of  so  much  of  the  vacant  land 
around  them,  as  they  were  disposed  to  till,  and 
no  more.  Their  agriculture  was  mde  :  and  even 
to  this  day,  some  of  the  implements  of  hus 
bandry  and  modes  of  cultivation,  brought  from 
France  a  century  ago,  remain  unchanged  by  the 
march  of  mind  or  the  hand  of  innovation. 
Their  houses  were  comfortable,  and  they  reared 
fruits  and  flowers,  evincing,  in  this  respect,  an 
attention  to  comfort  and  luxury,  which  has  not 

*  "Sketches  of  the  West,"  by  Judge  Hall,  for  many  years  a 
resident  of  Illinois.  * 


THE   PIONEER.  153 

been  practised  by  the  English  and  American 
first  settlers.  But  in  the  accumulation  of  prop 
erty,  and  in  all  the  essentials  of  industry,  they 
were  indolent  .and  improvident,  rearing  only  the 
bare  necessaries  of  life,  and  living  from  genera 
tion  to  generation  without  change  or  improve 
ment." 

"  They  reared  fruits  and  flowers,"  he  says ; 
and  this  simple  fact  denotes  a  marked  distinction 
between  them  and  the  Americans,  not  only  in 
regard  to  the  things  themselves,  as  would  seem 
to  be  the  view  of  the  author  quoted,  but  in 
mental  constitution,  modes  of  thought,  and 
motives  to  action.  Their  tastes  were  elegant, 
ornate,  and  refined.  They  found  pleasure  in 
pursuits  which  the  American  deems  trivial, 
frivolous,  and  unworthy  of  exertion. 

If  any  trees  sheltered  the  house  of  the  Ameri 
can,  they  were  those  planted  by  the  winds;  if 
there  were  any  flowers  at  his  door,  they  were 
only  those  with  which  prodigal  nature  has  car 
peted  the  prairies  ;  and  you  may  see  now  in  the 
west,  many  a  cabin  which  has  stood  for  thirty 
years,  with  not  a  tree,  of  shade  or  fruit,  within 
a  mile  of  its  door  !  Everything  is  as  bare  and 
as  cheerless  about  the  door-yard,  as  it  was  the 
first  winter  of  its  enclosure.  But,  stretching 
away  from  it,  in  every  direction,  sometimes  for 


154:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

miles,  you  will  see  extensive  and  productive 
fields  of  grain,  in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation. 
It  is  not  personal  comfort,  or  an  elegant  resi 
dence,  for  which  the  American  cares,  but  the 
enduring  and  solid  results  of  unwearied  labor. 

A  Frenchman's  residence  is  surrounded  by 
flower-beds  and  orchards ;  his  windows  are 
covered  by  creeping-vines  and  trellis-work ; 
flower-pots  and  bird-cages  occupy  the  sills  and 
surround  the  corridors;  everything  presents  the 
aspect  of  elegant  taste,  comfort,  and  indolence. 
The  extent  of  his  fields,  the  amount  of  his  prod 
uce,  the  intelligence  and  industry  of  his  culti 
vation,  bear  an  immense  disproportion  to  those 
of  his  less  ornamental,  though  more  energetic, 
neighbor. 

The  distinction  between  the  two  races  is  as 
clear  in  their  personal  appearance  and  bearing, 
as  in  the  aspect  of  their  plantations.  The 
Frenchman  is  generally  a  spruce,  dapper  little 
gentleman,  brisk,  obsequious,  and  insinuating 
in  manner,  and  usually  betraying  minute  atten 
tion  to  externals.  The  American  is  always  plain 
in  dress  —  evincing  no  more  taste  in  costume 
than  in  horticulture  —  steady,  cairn,  and  never 
lively  in  manner:  blunt,  straightforward,  and 
independent  in  discourse.  The  one  is  amiable 


THE    PIONEER.  155 

and  submissive,  the  other  choleric  and  rebel 
lious.  The  Frenchman  always  recognises  and 
bows  before  superior  rank  :  the  American  ac 
knowledges  no  superior,  and  bows  to  no  man 
save  in  courtesy.  The  former  is  docile  and 
easily  governed*:  the  latter  is  intractable,  be 
yond  control.  The  Frenchman  accommodates 
himself  to  circumstances  :  the  American  forces 
circumstances  to  yield  to  him. 

The  consequence  has  been,  that  while  the 
American  has  stamped  his  character  upon  the 
whole  country,  there  are  not  ten  places  in  the 
valley  of  the  Mississippi,  where  you  would  in 
fer,  from  anything  you  see,  that  a  Frenchman 
had  ever  placed  his  foot  upon  the  soil.  The  few 
localities  in  which  the  French  character  yet 
lingers,  are  fast  losing  the  distinction ;  and  a 
score  or  two  of  years  will  witness  a  total  dis 
appearance  of  the  gentle  people  and  their  primi 
tive  abodes.  Even  now  —  excepting  in  a  few 
parishes  in  Louisiana  —  the  relics  of  the  race 
bear  a  faded,  antiquated  look :  as  if  they  be 
longed  to  a  past  century,  as,  indeed,  they  do, 
and  only  lingered  now,  to  witness,  for  a  brief 
space,  the  glaring  innovations  of  the  nineteenth, 
and  then,  lamenting  the  follies  of  modern  civi 
lization,  to  take  their  departure  for  ever ! 

Let  them  depart  in  peace !     For  they  were  a 


156  WESTERN    CHAKACTEKS. 

gentle  and  pacific  race,  and  in  their  day  did 
many  kindly  things ! 

"The  goodness  of  the  heart  is  shown  in  deeds 
Of  peacefulness  and  kindness." 

Their  best  monument  is  an  affectionate  recol 
lection  of  their  simplicity :  their  highest  wish 


"To  sleep  in  humble  life, 

Beneath  the  storm  ambition  blows." 


T  \\  K     R  A  X  G  K  R 


IV. 

THE  EANGEE. 


"When  purposed  vengeance  I  forego, 
Term  me  a  wretch,  nor  deem  me  foe ; 
And  when  an  insult  I  forgive, 
Then  brand  me  as  a  slave,  and  live." 


SCOTT. 


IN  elaborating  the  character  of  the  pioneer, 
we  have  unavoidably  anticipated,  in  some  meas 
ure,  that  of  the  Hanger  —  for  the  latter  was,  in 
fact,  only  one  of  the  capacities  in  which  the 
former  sometimes  acted.  But  —  since,  in  the 
preceding  article,  we  have  have  endeavored  to 
confine  the  inquiry,  so  as  to  use  the  term  Pio 
neer  as  almost  synonymous  with  Immigrant  — 
we  have,  of  course,  ignored,  to  some  extent, 
the  subordinate  characters,  in  which  he  fre 
quently  figured.  We  therefore  propose,  now, 
briefly  to  review  one  or  two  of  them  in  their 
natural  succession. 

The  progress  of  our  country  may  be  traced 
and  measured,  by  the  representative  characters 


158  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

which  marked  each  period.  The  missionary- 
priest  came  first,  when  the  land  was  an  un 
broken  wilderness.  The  military  adventurer, 
seeking  to  establish  new  empires,  and  acquire 
great  fortunes,  entered  by  the  path  thus  opened. 
Next  came  the  hunter,  roaming  the  woods  in 
search  of  wild  beasts  upon  which  he  preyed. 
Making  himself  familiar  with  the  pathless  for 
est  and  the  rolling  prairie,  he  qualified  himself 
to  guide,  even  while  he  fled  from,  the  stream 
of  immigration.  At  last  came  the  pioneer,  to 
drive  away  the  savage,  to  clear  out  the  forests, 
and  reclaim  the  land. 

At  first,  he  was  only  a  pioneer.  He  had  few 
neighbors,  he  belonged  to  no  community  — his 
household  was  his  country,  his  family  were  his 
only  associates  or  companions.  In  the  course 
of  time  others  followed  him  —  he  could  occa 
sionally  meet  a  white  man  on  the  prairies  ;  if  he 
wandered  a  few  miles  from  home,  he  could  see 
the  smoke  of  another  chimney  in  the  distance. 
If  he  did  not  at  once  abandon  his  "  clearing" 
and  go  further  west,  lie  became,  in  some  sort,  a 
member  of  society — was  the  fellow-citizen  of 
his  neighbors.  The  Indians  became  alarmed 
for  their-hunting  grounds,  or  the  nations  went 
to  war  and  drew  them  into  the  contest:  the 
frontier  became  unsafe  :  the  presence  of  danger 


THE    RANGER.  159 

drew  the  pioneers  together :  they  adopted  a  sys 
tem  of  defence,  and  the  ranger  was  the  offspring 
and  representative  of  a  new  order  of  things. 

Rough  and  almost  savage  as  he  sometimes 
was,  he  was  still  the  index  to  a  great  improve 
ment.  Rude  as  the  system  was,  it  gave  shape 
and  order  to  what  had  before  been  mere  chaos. 

The  ranger  marks  a  new  era,  then ;  his  ex 
istence  is  another  chapter  in  the  history  of  the 
west.  Previous  to  his  time,  each  pioneer  de 
pended  only  on  himself  for  defence  —  his  sole 
protection,  against  the  wild  beast  and  the  savage, 
was  his  rifle  —  self-dependence  was  his  peculiar 
characteristic.  The  idea  of  a  fighting  establish 
ment —  the  germ  of  standing  armies  —  had  never 
occurred  to  him  :  even  the  rudest  form  of  civil 
government  was  strange  to  him — taxes,  salaries, 
assessments,  Avere  all  "  unknown  quantities." 

But,  gradually,  all  this  changed  ;  and  with 
his  circumstances,  his  character  was  also  modi 
fied.  He  lost  a  little  of  his  sturdy  independ 
ence,  his  jealousy  of  neighborhood  was  softened 
—  his  solitary  habits  became  more  social  —  he 
acknowledged  the  necessity  for  concert  of  ac 
tion —  he  merged  a  part  of  his  individuality 
into  the  community,  and — •  became  a  ranger. 

In  this  capacity,  his  character  was  but  little 


160  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

different  to  what  it  had  been  before  the  change ; 
and,  though  that  change  was  a  great  improve 
ment,  considered  with  reference  to  society,  it 
may  safely  be  doubted  whether  it  made  the  in 
dividual  more  respectable.  He  was  a  better 
oitizen,  because  he  now  contributed  to  the  com 
mon  defence  :  but  he  was  not  a  better  man, 
because  new  associations  brought  novel  temp 
tations,  and  mingling  with  other  men  wore 
away  the  simplicity,  which  was  the  foundation 
of  his  manliness.  Before  assuming  his  new 
character,  moreover,  he  never  wielded  a  weap 
on  except  in  his  own  defence  —  or,  at  most,  in 
avenging  his  own  wrongs.  The  idea  of  justice 

—  claiming  reparation  for  an  injury,  which  he 
alone  could  estimate,  because  by  him  alone  it 
was  sustained  —  protected  his  moral  sense.  But, 
when  he  assumed  the  vindication  of  his  neigh 
bor's  rights,  and  the  reparation  of  his  wrongs 

—  however  kind  it  may  have  been  to  do  so  — 
he  was  sustained  only  by  the  spirit  of  hatred  to 
the  savage,  could  feel  no  such  justification  as 
the  consciousness  of  injury. 

Here  was  the  first  introduction  of  the  mer 
cenary  character,  which  actuates  the  hireling 
soldier;  and,  though  civilization  was  not  then 
far  enough  advanced,  to  make  it  very  conspicu 
ous,  there  were  other  elements  mingled,  which 


THE   RAJSGEK.  161 

could  not  but  depreciate  the  simple  nobility  of 
the  pioneer's  nature.  Many  of  the  qualities 
which,  in  him,  had  been  merely  passive,  in  the 
ranger  became  fierce  and  active.  "We  have  al 
luded,  for  example,  to  his  hatred  of  the  Indian  ; 
and  this,  habit  soon  strengthened  and  exagger 
ated.  Nothing  marks  that  change  so  plainly  as 
his  adoption  of  the  barbarous  practice  of  scalp 
ing  enemies. 

For  this  there  might  be  some  little  palliation 
in  the  fact,  that  the  savage  never  considered  a 
warrior  overcome,  though  he  were  killed,  un 
less  he  lost  his  scalp ;  and  so  long  as  he  could 
bring  off  the  dead  bodies  of  his  comrades,  not 
mutilated  by  the  process,  he  was  but  partially 
intimidated.  Defeat  was,  in  that  case,  convert 
ed  to  a  sort  of  triumph  ;  and  having  gone  with 
in  one  step  of  victory  —  for  so  this  half-success 
was  estimated  —  was  the  strongest  incentive  to 
a  renewal  of  the  effort.  It  might  be,  therefore, 
that  the  ranger's  adoption  of  the  custom  was  a 
measure  of  self-defence.  But  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  this  consideration  —  weak  as  it  is,  when 
stated  as  an  excuse  for  cruelty  so  barbarous  — 
had  but  little  influence  in  determining  the  ran 
ger.  Adopting  the  code  of  the  savage,  the  prac 
tice  soon  became  a  part  of  his  warfare ;  and 
the  taking  of  the  scalp  was  a  ceremony  neces- 


1C2  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

sary  to  the  completion  of  his  victory.  It  was  a 
bloody  and  inhuman  triumph  —  a  custom  which 
tended,  more  forcibly  than  any  other,  to  de 
grade  true  courage  to  mere  cruelty  ;  and  which, 
while  it  only  mortified  the  savage,  at  the  same 
time,  by  rendering  his  hatred  of  the  white  men 
more  implacable,  aggravated  the  horrors  of  In 
dian  warfare.  But  the  only  measure  of  justice 
in  those  days,  was  the  lex  talionis  —  "An  eye 
for  an  eye,1'  a  scalp  for  a  scalp  ;  and,  even 
now,  you  may  hear  frontiermen  justify,  though 
they  do  not  practise  it,  by  quoting  the  venera 
ble  maxim,  "Fight  the  devil  with  fire." 

But,  though  the  warfare  of  the  ranger  was 
sometimes  distinguished  by  cruelty,  it  was  also 
ennobled  by  features  upon  which  it  is  far  more 
pleasant  to  dwell. 

No  paladin,  or  knight,  of  the  olden  times, 
ever  exhibited  more  wild,  romantic  daring, 
than  that  which  formed  a  part  of  the  ranger's 
daily  action.  Danger,  in  a  thousand  forms, 
beset  him  at  every  step  —  he  defied  mutilation, 
death  by  fire  and  lingering  torture.  The  num 
ber  of  his  enemies,  he  never  counted,  until  after 
he  had  conquered  them  —  the  power  of  the 
tribe,  or  the  prowess  of  the  warrior,  was  no  ele 
ment  in  his  calculations.  Where  he  could 


THE   KANGEE.  163 

strike  first  and  most  effectually,  was  his  only 
inquiry.  Securing  an  avenue  for  retreat  was 
no  part  of  his  strategy — for  he  had  never  an 
intention  or  thought  of  returning,  except  as  a 
victor.  "Keeping  open  his  communications," 
either  with  the  rear  or  the  flanks,  had  no  place 
in  lii's  system  ;  "  combined  movements"  he  sel 
dom  attempted,  for  he  depended  for  victory, 
upon  the  force  he  chanced  to -have  directly  at 
hand.  The  distance  from  his  "  base  of  opera 
tions"  be  never  measured  ;  for  he  carried  all 
his  supplies  about  his  person,  and  he  never 
locked  for  reinforcements.  Bridges  and  wagon- 
roads  he  did  not  require,  for  he  could  swim  all 
the  livers,  and  lie  never  lost  his  way  in  the  for 
est.  He  carriedJris  artillery  upon  his  shoulder, 
his  tactics  were  the  maxims  of  Indian  warfare, 
and  his  only  drill  was  the  "ball-practice"  of 
the  woods.  He  was  his  own  commissary,  for 
he  carried  his  "  rations"  on  his  back,  and  re 
plenished  his  havresack  with  his  rifle.  He 
needed  no  quartermaster ;  for  he  furnished  his 
o\vn  "transportation,"  and  selected  his  own 
encampment  —  his  bed  was  the  bosom  of  moth 
er-earth,  and  his  tent  was  the  foliage  of  an  oak 
or  the  canopy  of  heaven.  In  most  cases  — 
especially  in  battle  —  he  was  his  own  com 
mander,  too  ;  for  he  was  impatient  of  restraint, 


164  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

and  in  savage  warfare  knew  liis  duty  as  well  as 
any  man  could  instruct  him.  Obedience  was 
no  part  of  his  nature  —  subordination  was  irk 
some  and  oppressive.  In  a  word,  he  was  an 
excellent  soldier,  without  drill,  discipline  or 
organization. 

He  was  as  active  as  he  was  brave  —  as  un 
tiring  as  he  was  fearless. 

A  corps  of  rangers  moved  so  rapidly,  as  ap 
parently  to  double  its  numbers- — dispersing  on 
the  Illinois  or  Missouri,  and  reassembling  on 
the  Mississippi,  on  the  following  day  —  travers 
ing  the  Okan  timber  to-day,  and  fording  the 
Ohio  to-morrow.  One  of  them,  noted  among 
the  Indians  for  desperate  fighting,  and  person 
ally  known  for  many  a  bloody  meeting,  would 
appear  so  nearly  simultaneously  in  different 
places,  as  to  acquire  the  title  of  a  "  Great  Medi 
cine  ;"  and  instances  have  been  known,  where 
as  many  as  three  distinct  war-parties  have  told 
of  obstinate  encounters  with  the  same  men  in 
one  day !  Their  apparent  ubiquity  awed  the 
Indians  more  than  their  prowess. 

General  Benjamin  Howard,  who,  in  eighteen 
hundred  and  thirteen  resigned  the  office  of  gov 
ernor  of  Missouri,  and  accepted  the  appointment 
of  brigadier-general,  in  command  of  the  militia 


THE   KANGEK.  165 

and  rangers  of  Missouri  and  Illinois,  at  no  time, 
except  for  a  few  weeks  in  eighteen  hundred  and 
fourteen,  had  more  than  one  thousand  men  un 
der  his  orders  :  And  yet,  with  this  inconsider 
able  force,  he  protected  a  frontier  extending 
from  the  waters  of  the  Wabash,  westward  to  the 
advanced  settlements  of  Missouri  —  driving  the 
savages  northward  beyond  Peoria,  and  intimi 
dating  them  by  the  promptitude  and  rapidity 
of  his  movements. 

Our  government  contributed  nothing  to  the 
defence  of  its  frontiers,  except  an  act  of  Con 
gress,  which  authorized  them  to  defend  them 
selves  !.  The  Indians,  amounting  to  at  least 
twenty  tribes,  had  been  stirred  up  to  hostility 
by  the  British,  and,  before  the  establishment 
of  rangers,  were  murdering  and  plundering  al 
most  with  impunity.  But  soon  after  the  organ 
ization  of  these  companies,  the  tide  began  to 
turn.  The  ranger  was  at  least  a  match  for  the 
savage  in  his  own  mode  of  warfare  ;  and  he  had, 
moreover,  the  advantages  of  civilized  weapons, 
and  a  steadiness  and  constancy,  unknown  to 
the  disorderly  war-parties  of  the  red  men. 

He  was  persevering  beyond  all  example,  and 
exhibited  endurance  which  astonished  even  the 
stoical  savage.  Three  or  four  hours'  rest,  after 


106  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

weeks  of  hardship  and  exposure,  prepared  him 
for  another  expedition.  If  the  severity  of  his 
vengeance,  or  the  success  of  a  daring  enter 
prise,  intimidated  the  Indian  for  a  time,  and 
gave  him  a  few  days'  leisure,  he  grew  impa 
tient  of  inactivity,  and  was  straightway  plan 
ning  some  new  exploit.  The  moment  one  sug 
gested  itself,  lie  set  about  accomplishing  it — • 
and  its  hardihood  and  peril  caused  no  hesita 
tion.  He  would  march,  on  foot,  hundreds  of 
miles,  through  an  unbroken  wilderness,  until 
he  reached  the  point  where  the  blow  was  to  be 
struck;  and  then,  awaiting  the  darknessjn  the 
middle  of  the  night,  he  would  fall  upon  his  un 
suspecting  enemies  and  carry  all  before  him. 

During  the  war  of  independence,  the  ran 
gers  had  not  yet  assumed  that  name,  nor  were 
they  as  thoroughly  organized,  as  they  became 
in  the  subsequent  contest  of  eighteen  hundred 
and  twelve.  But  the  same  material  was  there 
—  the  same  elements  of  character,  actuated  by 
the  same  spirit.  Let  the  following  instance 
show  what  that  spirit  was. 

In  the  year  seventeen  hundred  and  seventy- 
seven,  there  lived  at  Cahokia  —  on  the  east 
side  of  the  Mississippi  below  Saint  Louis  —  a 
Pennsylvanian  by  the  name  of  Brady — a  rest- 


TI1E    RANGER.  167 

less,  daring  man,  just  made  for  a  leader  of  ran 
gers.  In  an  interval  of  inactivity,  lie  conceived 
the  idea  of  capturing  one  of  the  British  posts  in 
Michigan,  the  nearest  point  of  which  was  at 
least  three  hundred  miles  distant !  He  forth 
with  set  about  raising  a  company  —  and,  at  the 
end  of  three  days,  found  himself  invested  with 
the  command  of  sixteen  men  !  "With  these,  011 
the  first  of  October,  he  started  on  a  journey  of 
more  than  one  hundred  leagues,  through  the 
vast  solitudes  of  the  prairies  and  the  thousand 
perils  of  the  forest,  to  take  a  military  station, 
occupied  by  a  detachment  of  British  soldiers ! 
After  a  long  and  toilsome  march,  they  reached 
the  banks  of  the  St.  Joseph's  river,  on  which 
the  object  of  their  expedition  stood.  Awaiting 
the  security  of  midnight,  they  suddenly  broke 
from  their  cover  in  the  neighborhood,  and  by  a 
coup  de  main,  captured  the  fort  without  the  loss 
of  a  man  !  Thus  far  all  went  well  —  for  besides 
the  success  and  safety  of  the  party,  they  found 
a  large  amount  of  stores,  belonging  to  traders, 
in  the  station,  and  were  richly  paid  for  their  en 
terprise —  but  having  been  detained  by  the  foot 
sore,  on  their  homeward  march,  and  probably 
delayed  by  their  plunder,  they  had  only  reached 
the  Calumet,  on  the  borders  of  Indiana,  when 
they  were  overtaken  by  three  hundred  British 


168  WESTERN    CIIAKACTEliS. 

and  Indians !  They  were  forced  to  surrender, 
though  not  without  a  fight,  for  men  of  that 
stamp  were  not  to  be  intimidated  by  numbers. 
They  lost  in  the  skirmish  one  fourth  of  their 
number:  the  survivors  were  carried  away  to 
Canada,  whence  Brady,  the  leader,  escaped,  and 
returned  to  Caliokia  the  same  winter.  The 
twelve  remained  prisoners  until  seventeen  hun 
dred  and  seventy-nine. 

Against  most  men  this  reverse  would  have 
given  the  little  fort  security  —  at  least,  until  the 
memory  of  the  disaster  had  been  obscured  by 
time.  But  the  pioneers  of  that  period  were  not 
to  be  judged  by  ordinary  rules.  The  very  next 
spring  (1778),  another  company  was  raised  for 
the  same  object,  and  to  wipe  out  what  they  con 
sidered  the  stain  of  a  failure.  It  was  led  by  a 
man  named  Maize,  over  the  same  ground,  to  the 
same  place,  and  was  completely  successful. 
The  fort  was  retaken,  the  trading-station  plun 
dered,  the  wounded  men  of  Brady's  party  "re 
leased,  and,  loaded  with  spoil,  the  little  party 
marched  back  in  triumph  ! 

There  is  an  episode  in  the  history  of  their 
homeward  march,  which  illustrates  another 
characteristic  of  the  ranger  —  his  ruthlessness. 


THE    BANGER.  169 

The  same  spirit  which  led  him  to  disregard 
physical  obstacles,  prevented  his  shrinking  from 
even  direful  necessities.  One  of  the  prisoners 
whom  they  had  liberated,  became  exhausted 
and  unable  to  proceed.  They  could  not  carry 
him,  and  would  not  have  him  to  die  of  starva 
tion  in  the  wilderness.  They  could  not  halt 
with  him,  lest  the  same  fate  should  overtake 
them,  which  had  defeated  the  enterprise  of 
Brady.  But  one  alternative  remained,  and 
though,  to  us,  it  appears  cruel  and  inhuman,  it 
was  self-preservation  to  them,  and  mercy,  in  a 
strange  guise,  to  the  unhappy  victim  —  lie  was 
despatched  l>y  the  hand  of  the  leader,  and 
buried  upon  the  prairie !  His  grave  is  some 
where  near  the  head- waters  of  the  Wabash,  and 
has  probably  been  visited  by  no  man  from  that 
day  to  this ! 

Mournful  reflections  cluster  round  such  a 
narrative  as  this,  and  we  are  impelled  to  use 
the  word  "  atrocious"  when  we  speak  of  it.  It 
was  certainly  a  bloody  deed,  but  the  men  of 
those  days  were  not  nurtured  in  drawing-rooms, 
and  never  slept  upon  down-beds.  A  state  of 
war,  moreover,  begets  many  evils,  and  none 
of  them  are  more  to  be  deplored  than  the  occa 
sional  occurrence  of  such  terrible  necessities. 
8 


1TO  WESTERN    CHATCACTEKS. 

The  ranger-character,  like  the  pioneer-nature 
of  which  it  was  a  phase,  was  compounded  of 
various  and  widely-differing  elements.  ~No  one 
of  his  evil  qualities  was  more  prominent  than 
several  of  the  good ;  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
none  of  the  good  was  more  prominent  than 
several  of  the  bad.  No  class  of  men  did  more 
efficient  service  in  defending  the  western  settle 
ments  from  the  inroads  of  the  Indians ;  and 
though  it  seems  hard  that  the  war  should  some 
times  have  been  carried  into  the  country  of  the 
untutored  savage  by  civilized  men,  with  a 
severity  exceeding  his  own,  we  should  remem 
ber  that  we  can  not  justly  estimate  the  motives 
and  feelings  of  the  ranger,  without  first  having 
been  exasperated  by  his  sufferings  and  tried  by 
his  temptations. 


V. 

THE  REGULATOR. 


:  Thieves  for  their  robbery  have  authority, 
When  judges  steal  themselves." — 

MEASURE  FOR  MEASUI 


AT  the  conclusion  of  peace  between  England 
and  America,  in  eighteen  hundred  and  fifteen, 
the  Indians,  who  had  been  instigated  and  sup 
ported  in  their  hostility  by  the  British,  suddenly 
found  themselves  deprived  of  their  allies.  If 
they  now  made  war  upon  the  Americans,  they 
must  do  so  upon  their  own  responsibility,  and, 
excepting  the  encouragement  of  a  few  traders 
and  commanders  of  outposts,  whose  enmity 
survived  the  general  pacification,  without  assist 
ance  from  abroad.  They,  however,  refused  to 
lay  down  their  arms,  and  hostilities  were  con 
tinned,  though  languidly,  for  some  years  longer. 
But  the  rangers,  now  disciplined  by  the  experi 
ence  of  protracted  warfare,  and  vastly  increased 


172  WESTERN    CHAJRACTEK3. 

in  numbers,  had  grown  to  be  more  than  a  match 
for  them,  so  that  not  many  years  elapsed  before 
the  conclusion  of  a  peace,  which  has  lasted, 
with  but  occasional  interruptions,  to  the  present 
day. 

When  danger  no  longer  threatened  the  settle 
ments,  there  was  no  further  call  for  these  irreg 
ular  troops.  The  companies  were  disbanded, 
and  those  who  had  families,  as  a  large  propor 
tion  of  them  had,  returned  to  their  plantations, 
and  resumed  the  pursuits  of  industry  and  peace. 
Those  who  had  neither  farms  nor  families,  and 
were  unfitted  by  their  stirring  life  for  regular 
effort,  emigrated  further  west.  Peace  settled 
upon  our  borders,  never,  we  hope,  to  be  seriously 
broken. 

But  as  soon  as  the  pressure  of  outward  danger 
was  withdrawn,  and  our  communities  began  to 
expand,  the  seeds  of  new  evils  were  developed 
— seeds  which  had  germinated  unobserved, 
while  all  eyes  were  averted,  and  which  now 
began  to  shoot  up  into  a  stately  growth  of  vices 
and  crimes.  The  pioneers  soon  learned  that 
there  was  among  them  a  class  of  unprincipled 
and  abandoned  men,  whose  only  motive  in 
emigrating  was  to  avoid  the  restraints,  or  escape 
the  penalties,  of  law,  and  to  whom  the  freedom 


THE   REGULATOR.  173 

of  the  wilderness  was  a  license  to  commit  every 
sort  of  depredation.  The  arm  of  the  law  was 
not  yet  strong  enough  to  punish  them. 

The  territorial  governments  were  too  busy  in 
completing  their  own  organization,  to  give 
much  attention  to  details :  where  states  had 
been  formed,  the  statute-book  was  yet  a  blank: 
few  officers  had  been  appointed,  and  even  these 
were  strangers  to  their  duties  and  charge  of  re 
sponsibility.  Between  the  military  rule  of  the 
rangers — for  they  were  for  internal  police  as 
well  as  external  defence  —  and  the  establishment 
of  regular  civil  government,  there  was  a  sort 
of  interregnum,  during  which  there  was  neither 
law  nor  power  to  enforce  it.  The  bands  of 
villains  who  infested  the  country  were  the  only 
organizations  known  ;  and,  in  not  a  few  in 
stances,  these  bands  included  the  very  magis 
trates  whose  duty  it  was  to  see  that  the  laws 
were  faithfully  executed.  Even  when  this  was 
not  the  case,  it  was  a  fruitless  effort  to  arrest  a 
malefactor ;  indeed,  it  was  very  often  worse  than 
fruitless,  for  his  confederates  were  always  ready 
to  testify  in  his  favor :  and  the  usual  conse 
quence  of  an  attempt  to  punish,  was  the  draw 
ing  down  upon  the  head  of  the  complainant  or 
prosecutor,  the  enmity  of  a  whole  confederacy. 
Legal  proceedings,  had  provision  been  made  for 


174:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

such,  were  worse  than  useless,  for  conviction 
was  impossible :  and  the  effort  exasperated, 
while  the  failure  encouraged,  the  outlaw  spirit. 
An  alibi  was  the  usual  defence,  and  to  those 
times  may  be  referred  the  general  prejudice  en 
tertained  among  our  people,  even  at  the  present 
day,  against  that  species  of  testimony.  A  jury 
of  western  men  will  hardly  credit  an  alibi, 
though  established  by  unexceptionable  wit 
nesses  ;  and  the  announcement  that  the  accused 
depends  upon  that  for  his  defence,  will  create 
a  strong  prejudice  against  him  in  advance.  In 
justice  may  sometimes  be  done  in  this  way,  but 
it  is  a  feeling  of  which  our  people  came  honestly 
in  possession.  They  established  a  habit,  in  early 
days,  of  never  believing  an  alibi,  because,  at 
that  time,  nine  alibis  in  ten  were  false,  and 
habits  of  thought,  like  legal  customs,  cling  to 
men  long  after  their  reason  has  ceased.  It  is 
right,  too,  that  it  should  be  so,  on  the  principle 
that  we  should  not  suspend  the  use  of  the 
remedy  until  the  disease  be  thoroughly  con 
quered. 

In  a  state  of  things,  such  as  we  have  de 
scribed,  but  one  of  two  things  could  be  done: 
the  citizens  must  either  abandon  all  effort  to 
assert  the  supremacy  of  order,  and  give  the 


THE   REGULATOR.  175 

country  over  to  thieves  and  robbers,  or  they 
must  invent  some  new  and  irregular  way  of 
forcing  men  to  live  honestly.  They  wisely 
chose  the  latter  alternative.  They  consulted 
together,  and  the  institution  of  Regulators  was 
the  result  of  their  deliberations. 

These  were  small  bodies  of  men,  chosen  by 
the  people,  or  voluntarily  assuming  the  duty  — 
men  upon  whom  the  citizens  could  depend  for 
both  discretion  and  resolution.  Their  duties 
may  be  explained  in  a  few  words :  to  ferret  out 
and  punish  criminals,  to  drive  out  "  suspicious 
characters,"  and  exercise  a  general  supervision 
over  the  interests  and  police  of  the  settlements, 
from  which  they  were  chosen.  Their  statute- 
book  was  the  "code  of  Judge  Lynch"  —  their 
order  of  trial  was  similar  to  that  of  a  "  drum 
head  court-martial" — the  principles  of  their 
punishment  was  certainty,  rapidity,  and  sever 
ity.  They  were  judges,  juries,  witnesses,  and 
executioners. 

They  bound  themselves  by  a  regular  compact 
(usually  verbal,  but  sometimes  in  writing*),  to 
the  people  and  to  each  other,  to  rid  the  commu 
nity  of  all  thieves,  robbers,  plunderers,  and 
villains  of  every  description.  They  scoured  the 

*  See  note  at  the  close  of  this  article. 


176  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

country  in  all  directions  and  in  all  seasons,  and 
by  the  swiftness  of  their  movements,  and  the 
certainty  of  their  vengeance,  rivalled  their  pred 
ecessors,  the  rangers.  When  a  depredation 
had  been  committed,  it  was  marvellous  with 
what  rapidity  every  regulator  knew  it ;  even 
the  telegraph'  of  modern  days  performs  no 
greater  wonders :  and  it  frequently  happened, 
that  the  first  the  quiet  citizens  heard  of  a  theft, 
or  a  robbery,  was  the  news  of  its  punishment ! 
Their  acts  may  sometimes  have  been  high 
handed  and  unjustifiable,  but  on  the  whole — 
and  it  is  only  in  such  a  view  that  social  institu 
tions  are  to  be  estimated — they  were  the  pre 
servers  of  the  communities  for  whom  they  acted. 
In  time,  it  is  true,  they  degenerated,  and  some 
times  the  corps  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  very 
men  they  were  organized  to  punish. 

Every  social  organization  is  liable  to  mis 
direction,  and  this,  among  others,  has  been  per 
verted  to  the  furtherance  of  selfish  and  unprin 
cipled  purposes  ;  for,  like  prejudices  and  habits 
of  thought,  organized  institutions  frequently 
survive  the  necessities  which  call  them  into 
existence.  Abuses  grow  up  under  all  systems  ; 
and,  perhaps,  the  worst  abuse  of  all,  is  a  meas 
ure  or  expedient,  good  though  temporary,  re- 


THE   REGULATOR.  177 

tained  after  the  passing  away  of  the  time  for 
which  it  was  adopted. 

But  having,  in  the  article  "  Pioneer,"  suffi 
ciently  elaborated  the  character — for  the  regu 
lator  was  of  course  a  pioneer  also — we  can  best 
illustrate  the  mode  of  his  action  by  a  narrative 
of  facts.  From  the  hundreds  of  well-authenti 
cated  stories  which  might  be  collected,  I  have 
chosen  the  two  following,  because  they  dis 
tinguish  the  successive  stages  or  periods  of  the 
system.  The  first  relates  to  the  time  when  a 
band  of  regulators  \vas  the  only  reliable  legal 
power,  and  when,  consequently,  the  vigilance 
of  the  citizens  kept  it  comparatively  pure.  The 
second  indicates  a  later  period,  when  the  people 
no  longer  felt  insecure,  and  there  was  in  fact  no 
necessity  for  the  system  ;  and  when,  not  having 
been  disused,  it  could  not  but  be  abused.  We 
derive  both  from  an  old  citizen  of  the  country, 
who  was  an  actor  in  each.  One  of  them,  the 
first,  has  already  been  in  print,  but  owing  to 
circumstances  to  which  it  is  needless  to  advert, 
it  was  thought  better  to  confine  the  narrative  to 
facts  already  generally  known.  These  circum 
stances  are  no  longer  operative,  and  I  am  now 
at  liberty  to  publish  entire  the  story  of  "  The 
First  Grave." 


178  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 


THE    FIRST    GRAVE. 

AT  the  commencement  of  the  war  of  eighteen 
hundred  and  twelve,  between  Great  Britain  and 
the  United  States,  there  lived,  in  the  western 
part  of  Virginia,  three  families,  named,  respec 
tively,  Stone,  Cutler,  and  Roberts.  They  were 
all  respectable  people,  of  more  than  ordinary 
wealth ;  having  succeeded,  by  an  early  emigra 
tion  and  judicious  selection  of  lands,  in  rebuild 
ing  fortunes  which  had  been  somewhat  impaired 
east  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  Between  the  first  and 
second  there  was  a  relationship,  cemented  by 
several  matrimonial  alliances,  and  the  standing 
of  both  had  been  elevated  by  this  union  of  for 
tunes.  In  each  of  these  two,  there  were  six  or 
seven  children  —  the  most  of  them  boys  —  but 
Captain  Roberts,  the  head  of  the  third,  had  but 
one  child,  a  daughter,  who,  in  the  year  named, 
was  approaching  womanhood. 

She  is  said  to  have  been  beautiful :  and,  from 
the  extravagant  admiration  of  those  who  saw 
her  only  when  time  and  suffering  must  have 
obscured  her  attractions,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  she  was  so.  What  her  character 
was,  we  can  only  conjecture  from  the  tenor  of 
our  story :  though  we  have  reason  to  suspect  that 


THE    REGTJLATOK.  179 

she  was  passionate,  impulsive,  and  somewhat 
vain  of  her  personal  appearance. 

At  the  opening  of  hostilities  between  the  two 
countries,  she  was  wooed  by  two  suitors,  young 
Stone,  the  eldest  of  the  sons  of  that  family,  and 
Abram  Cutler,  who  was  two  or  three  years  his 
senior.  Both  had  recently  returned  home,  after 
a  protracted  absence  of  several  years,  beyond 
the  mountains,  whither  they  had  been  sent  by 
their  ambitious  parents,  "  to  attend  college  and 
see  the  world."  Stone  was  a  quiet,  modest,  un 
assuming  young  man,  rather  handsome,  but  too 
pale  and  thin  to  be  decidedly  so.  Having  made 
the  most  of  his  opportunities  at  "  William  and 
Mary,"  he  had  come  home  well-educated  (for 
that  day  and  country)  and  polished  by  inter 
course  with  good  society. 

His  cousin,  Abram  Cutler,  was  his  opposite 
in  almost  everything.  He  had  been  wild,  reck 
less,  and  violent,  at  college,  almost  entirely 
giving  up  his  studies,  after  the  first  term,  and 
always  found  in  evil  company.  His  manners 
were  as  much  vitiated  as  his  morals,  for  he  was 
exceedingly  rough,  boisterous,  and  unpolished  : 
so  much  so,  indeed,  as  to  approach  that  limit 
beyond  which  wealth  will  not  make  society 
tolerant.  But  his  freedom  of  manner  bore,  to 
most  observers,  the  appearance  of  generous 


180  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

heartiness,  and  Le  soon  gained  the  good  will  of 
the  neighborhood  by  the  careless  prodigality 
of  his  life.  He  was  tall,  elegantly  formed,  and 
quite  well-looking ;  and  though  he  is  said  to 
have  borne,  a  few  years  later,  a  sinister  and  dis 
honest  look,  it  is  probable  that  most  of  this  was 
attributable  to  the  preconceived  notions  of  those 
who  thus  judged  him. 

Both  these  young  men  were,  as  we  have  said, 
suitors  for  the  hand  of  Margaret  Roberts,  and 
it  is  possible  that  the  vain  satisfaction  of  having 
at  her  feet  the  two  most  attractive  young  men 
in  the  country,  led  her  to  coquet  with  them  both, 
but  decidedly  to  prefer  neither.  It  is  almost 
certain,  that  at  the  period  indicated,  she  was 
sufficiently  well-pleased  with  either  to  have  be 
come  his  wife,  had  the  other  been  away.  If 
she  loved  either,  however,  it  was  Stone,  for  she 
was  a  little  timid,  and  Cutler  sometimes  fright 
ened  her  with  his  violence  :  but  the  preference, 
if  it  existed-at  all,  was  not  sufficiently  strong  to 
induce  a  choice. 

About  this  time,  the  elder  Cutler  died,  and  it 
became  necessary  for  Abram,  as  executor  of  a 
large  estate,  to  cross  the  mountains  into  the  Old 
Dominion,  and  arrange  its  complicated  affairs. 
It  was  not  without  misgiving  that  he  went  away, 


THE    EEGULATOE.  181 

but  his  duties  were  imperative,  and  his  necessi 
ties,  produced  by  his  spendthrift  habits,  were 
pressing.  He  trusted  to  a  more  than  usually 
favorable  interview  with  Margaret,  and  full  of 
sanguine  hopes,  departed  on  his  journey. 

Whether  Stone  entertained  the  idea  of  taking 
an  unfair  advantage  of  his  rival's  absence,  we 
can  not  say,  but  he  straightway  became  more 
assiduous  in  his  attentions  to  Margaret.  He 
was  also  decidedly  favored  by  Captain  Roberts 
and  his  wife,  both  of  whom  had  been  alarmed 
by  the  violent  character  of  Cutler.  Time  soon 
began  to  obscure  the  recollection  of  the  absent 
suitor,  and  Stone's  delicate  and  considerate 
gallantry  rapidly  gained  ground  in  Margaret's 
affections.  It  was  just  one  month  after  Cutler's 
departure  that  his  triumph  was  complete  ;  she 
consented  to  be  his  wife  so  soon  as  the  minister 
who  travelled  on  that  circuit  should  enter  the 
neighborhood.  But  the  good  man  had  set  out 
on  his  circuit  only  the  day  before  the  consent 
was  given,  and  it  would  probably  be  at  least  a 
month  before  his  return.  In  the  meantime, 
Cutler  might  recross  the  mountains,  and  Stone 
had  seen  quite  enough  of  Margaret's  capricious- 
ness  to  tremble  for  the  safety  of  his  conquest, 
should  that  event  occur  before  it  was  thoroughly 
secured. 


182  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

This  was  embarrassing :  but  when  a  man  is 
in  earnest,  expedients  are  never  wanting. 

There  was  an  old  gentleman  living  a  few 
miles  from  the  valley,  who  had  once  held  the 
commission  of  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
though  he  had  not  exercised  his  functions,  or 
even  claimed  his  dignity,  for  several  years,  Stone 
was  advised  that  he  retained  his  official  power 
"  until  his  successor  was  appointed  and  quali 
fied,"  and  that,  consequently,  any  official  act  of 
his  would  be  legal  and  valid.  He  was  advised, 
moreover,  and  truly,  that  even  if  the  person  per 
forming  the  ceremony  were  not  a  magistrate,  a 
marriage  would  be  lawful  and  binding  upon  the 
simple  "  consent"  of  the  parties,  properly  pub 
lished  and  declared. 

Full-freighted  with  the  happy  news,  he  posted 
away  to  Captain  Roberts,  and  without  difficulty 
obtained  his  sanction.  He  then  went  to  Mar 
garet,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  her  mother, 
who  stood  in  much  dread  of  Cutler's  violence, 
succeeded  in  persuading  her  to  consent.  With 
out  delay,  the  cidevant  magistrate  was  called  in, 
the  ceremony  was  performed,  and  Margaret  was 
Stone's  wife ! 

The  very  day  after  this  event,  Cutler  return 
ed  !  "What  were  his  thoughts  no  one  knew,  for 


THE   REGULATOR.  183 

he  spoke  to  none  upon  the  subject.  He  went, 
however,  to  see  "  the  bride,"  and,  in  the  presence 
of  others,  bantered  her  pleasantly  upon  her  new 
estate,  upon  his  own  pretensions,  and  upon  the 
haste  with  which  the  ceremony  had  been  per 
formed.  He  started  away  with  the  rest  of  the 
company  present;  but,  on  reaching  the  door — 
it  was  afterward  remembered  —  pretended  to 
have  forgotten  something,  and  ran  back  into  the 
room  where  they  had  left  Margaret  alone.  Here 
he  remained  full  ten  minutes,  and  when  he  came 
out  walked  thoughtfully  apart  and  disappeared. 
What  he  said  to  Margaret  no  one  knew ;  but, 
that  evening,  when  they  were  alone,  she  asked 
anxiously  of  her  husband,  "  whether  he  was 
quite  sure  that  their  marriage  had  been  legal?" 
Stone  reassured  her,  and  nothing  more  was  said 
upon  the  subject. 

Cutler  had  brought  with  him,  over  the  moun 
tains,  the  proclamation  of  the  governor  of  Vir 
ginia,  announcing  the  declaration  of  war,  and 
calling  upon  the  state  for  its  quota  of  troops  to 
repel  invasion.  He  manifested  a  warm  interest 
in  the  enrolling  and  equipment  of  vo'unteers, 
and,  in  order  to  attest  his  sincerity,  placed  his 
own  name  first  upon  tbe  roll.  A  day  or  two 
afterward,  on  meeting  Stone,  in  the  presence  of 


184:  WESTEEN   CHARACTERS. 

several  others  who  had  enrolled  themselves,  he 
laughingly  observed,  that  the  new  bridegroom 
"  was  probably  too  comfortable  at  home,  to  de 
sire  any  experience  in  campaigning :"  and,  turn 
ing  away,  he  left  the  company  laughing  at 
Stone's  expense. 

This  touched  the  young  man's  pride  —  proba 
bly  the  more  closely,  because  he  was  conscious 
that  the  insinuation  was  not  wholly  void  of  truth 
—  and,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  called 
Cutler  back,  took  the  paper,  and  enrolled  his 
name.  Cutler  laughed  again,  said  he  would 
not  have  done  so,  had  he  been  in  Stone's  cir 
cumstances,  and,  after  some  further  conversa 
tion,  walked  away  in  the  direction  of  Stone's 
residence.  Whether  he  actually  entered  the 
house  is  not  known  ;  but  when  the  young  hus 
band  returned  home,  a  few  hours  afterward,  his 
wife's  first  words  indicated  that  she  knew  of  his 
enrolment. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  said  she,  with  some  asperity, 
"  that  you  already  care  so  little  for  me  as  to  en 
rol  yourself  for  an  absence  of  six  months?" 

Stone  would  much  have  preferred  to  break 
the  news  to  her  himself,  for  he  had  some  fore 
boding  as  to  the  view  she  might  take  of  his 
conduct.  He  had  scarcely  been  married  a  week, 
and  he  was  conscious  that  a  severe  construction 


THE  EEGULATOE.  185 

of  the  act  of  enrolment,  when  there  was  no 
toriously  not  the  least  necessity  for  it,  might 
lead  to  inferences,  than  which,  nothing  could 
be  more  false.  If  he  had  said,  at  once,  that  he 
had  been  taunted  by  his  old  rival,  and  written 
his  name  under  the  influence  of  pride,  all  would 
have  been  well,  for  his  wife  would  then  have 
understood,  though  she  might  not  have  ap 
proved  his  action.  But  this  confession  he  was 
ashamed  to  make,  and,  by  withholding  it,  laid 
the  foundation  for  his  own  and  his  wife's  de 
struction.  He  at  once  acknowledged  the  fact, 
disclaiming,  however,  the  indifference  to  her, 
which  she  inferred,  and  placing  the  act  upon 
higher  ground  :  — 

"  The  danger  of  the  country,"  he  said,  "  was 
very  imminent,  and  it  became  every  good  citizen 
to  do  all  he  could  for  its  defence.  He  had  no 
idea  that  the  militia  would  be  called  far  from 
home,  or  detained  for  a  very  long  time  ;  but,  in 
any  event,  he  felt  that  men  were  bound,  in  such 
circumstances,  to  cast  aside  personal  considera 
tions,  and  contribute,  each  his  share,  to  the 
common  defence." 

His  wife  gazed  incredulously  at  him  while  he 
talked  this  high  patriotism  :  and  well  she  might, 
for  lie  did  not  speak  as  one  moved  by  such  feel 
ings.  The  consciousness  of  deceit,  of  conceal- 


186  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

ment,  and  of  childish  rashness,  rendered  his 
manner  hesitating  and  embarrassed.  Margaret 
observed  all  this,  for  her  jealousy  was  aroused 
and  her  suspicions  sharpened ;  she  made  no 
reply,  however,  but  turned  away,  with  a  toss  of 
the  head,  and  busied  herself,  quite  fiercely,  with 
her  household  cares.  From  that  moment,  until 
the  day  of  his  departure,  she  stubbornly  avoid 
ed  the  subject,  listening,  but  refusing  to  reply, 
when  her  husband  attempted  to  introduce  it. 
When  Cutler  came  —  rather  unnecessarily,  as 
Stone  thought — to  consult  him  about  the  or 
ganization  of  a  spy-company,  to  which  both 
were  attached,  she  paid  no  attention  to  their 
conversation,  but  walked  away  down  a  road 
over  which  she  knew  Cutler  must  pass  on  his 
return  homeward.  "Whether  this  was  by  ap 
pointment  with  him  is  not  known :  probably, 
however,  it  was  her  own  motion. 

"We  need  not  stay  to  detail  all  that  took  place 
between  her  and  her  former  suitor,  when,  as  she 
had  expected,  they  met  in  a  wood  some  hun 
dreds  of  yards  from  her  home  ;  its  result  will 
sufficiently  appear  in  the  sequel.  One  circum 
stance,  however,  we  must  not  omit.  She  re 
curred  to  a  conversation  which,  had  passed  some 
time  before,  in  relation  to  the  legality  of  her 


THE    REGULATOR.  187 

marriage ;  and  though  Cutler  gave  no  positive 
opinion,  liis  parting  advice  was  nearly  in  the 
following  words  : — • 

"  If  you  think,  from  your  three  weeks'  expe 
rience,  that  Stone  cares  enough  for  you  to  make 
it  prudent,  I  would  advise  you  to  have  the  mar 
riage  ceremony  performed  by  Parson  Bowen, 
immediately  upon  his  return ;  and  if  you  care 
enough  for  him  to  wish  to  retain  him,  you  had 
better  have  it  performed  ^before,  he  goes  away" 

With  these  words,  and  without  awaiting  an 
answer,  he  passed  on,  leaving  her  alone  in  the 
road.  "When  she  returned  home,  she  did  not 
mention  the  subject ;  and  though  Parson  Bowen 
returned  to  the  neighborhood  quite  a  week 
before  Stone  went  away,  she  never  suggested  a 
repetition  of  the  ceremony.  When  Stone  mani 
fested  some  anxiety  on  the  subject,  she  turned 
suddenly  upon  him  and  demanded  — 

"  You  do  not  think  our  marriage  legal,  then  ?" 

He  assured  her  that  he  only  made  the  sug 
gestion  for  her  satisfaction,  entertaining  no 
doubt,  himself,  that  they  were  regularly  and 
lawfully  married. 

"  I  am  content  to  remain  as  I  am,"  she  said, 
curtly,  and  the  parson  was  not  summoned. 

Five  days  afterward  the  troops  took  up  the 
line  of  march  for  the  frontier.  Hull  had  not 


188  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

yet  surrendered  Michigan  ;  but  Proctor  had  so 
stirred  up  the  Indians  (who,  until  then,  had  been 
quiet  since  the  battle  of  Tippecanoe),  as  to  cut 
off  all  communication  with  the  advanced  settle 
ments,  and  even  to  threaten  the  latter  with  fire 
and  slaughter.  Ohio,  Indiana,  and  Illinois,  were 
then  overrun  by  British  and  Indians;  for  Hop 
kins  had  not  yet  commenced  his  march  from 
Kentucky,  and  Congress  was  still  debating  meas 
ures  for  protection.  Hull's  surrender  took  place 
on  the  sixteenth  of  August,  eighteen  hundred 
and  twelve,  and  in  the  following  month,  General 
Harrison,  having  been  appointed  to  the  chief 
command  in  the  northwest,  proceeded  to  adopt 
vigorous  measures  for  the  defence  of  the  country. 
It  was  to  one  of  the  regiments  organized  by 
him,  that  our  friends  from  Virginia  found  them 
selves  attached.  They  had  raised  a  company 
of  spies,  and  in  this  both  Stone  and  Cutler  held 
commissions. 

They  marched  with  the  regiment,  or  rather  in 
advance  of  it,  for  several  w^eeks.  By  that  time, 
they  had  penetrated  many  miles  beyond  the 
settlements,  and  Harrison  began  to  feel  anxious 
to  ascertain  the  position  of  General  Hopkins, 
and  open  communications  with  him.  For  this 
service  Cutler  volunteered,  and  was  imme- 


THE   REGULATOR.  189 

diately  selected  by  the  general.  On  the  follow 
ing  morning,  lie  set  out  with  five  men  to  seek 
the  Kentuckians.  He  found  them  without  diffi 
culty  and  delivered  his  despatches  ;  but  from 
that  day  he  was  not  seen,  either  in  the  camp  of 
Hopkins  or  in  that  of  Harrison  !  It  was  sup 
posed  that  he  had  started  on  his  return,  and 
been  taken  or  killed  by  the  Indians,  parties  of 
whom  were  prowling  about  between  the  lines 
of  the  two  columns. 

Stone  remained  with  his  company  two  or 
three  months  longer,  when,  the  enterprise  of 
Hopkins  having  .failed,  and  operations  being 
suspended  for  the  time,  it  was  thought  inex 
pedient  to  retain  them  for  the  brief  period 
which  remained  of  their  term  of  enlistment, 
and  they  were  discharged.  Stone  returned 
home,  and,  full  of  anticipations,  the  growth  of  a 
long  absence,  hastened  at  once  to  his  own  house. 
The  door  was  closed,  no  smoke  issued  from  the 
chimney,  there  was  no  one  there  !  After  calling 
in  vain  for  a  long  time,  he  ran  away  to  her 
father's,  endeavoring  to  feel  certain  that  he  would 
find  her  there.  But  the  old  man  received  him 
with  a  mournful  shake  of  the  head.  Margaret 
had  been  gone  more  than  a  month,  no  one  knew 
whither  or  with  whom ! 


190  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

A  report  had  been  in  circulation  that  Cutler 
was  seen  in  the  neighborhood,  a  few  days  before 
her  disappearance ;  but  no  news  having  been 
received  of  his  absence  from  the  army,  it  had 
not  been  generally  credited.  But  now,  it  was 
quite  clear ! 

The  old  man  invited  Stone  to  enter,  but  he 
declined.  Sitting  down  on  a  log,  he  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands,  for  a  few  moments,  and 
seemed  buried  in  grief.  It  did  not  last  long, 
however :  he  rose  almost  immediately,  and  going 
a  little  aside,  calmly  loaded  his  rifle.  Without 
noticing  the  old  man,  who  staod  gazing  at  him 
in  wonder,  he  turned  away,  and,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  ground,  took  the  path  toward  his 
own  house.  He  was  seen  to  break  the  door  and 
enter,  but  he  remained  within  only  a  few 
minutes.  On  coming  out,  he  threw  his  rifle 
over  his  shoulder,  and  walked  away  through  the 
forest.  Half  an  hour  afterward,  smoke  was 
seen  issuing  from  the  roof  of  the  house  in  several 
places,  and  on  repairing  thither,  the  neighbors 
found  the  whole  place  in  a  bright  flame !  It 
was  of  no  use  to  attempt  to  save  it  or  any  of  its 
contents.  An  hour  afterward,  it  was  a  heap  of 
smouldering  ruins,  and  its  owner  had  disap 
peared  from  the  country ! 


THE   REGULATOR.  191 

*  *  *  *  * 

Seven  years  passed  away. 

The  war  was  over:  the  Indians  had  been 
driven  to  the  north  and  west,  and  the  tide  of 
emigration  had  again  set  toward  the  Missis 
sippi.  The  northwestern  territory  —  especially 
that  part  of  it  which  is  now  included  within  the 
limits  of  Illinois  and  Indiana  —  was  rapidly  fil 
ling  up  with  people  from  the  south  and  east.  The 
advanced  settlements  had  reached  the  site  of 
Springfield,  in  the  "  Sangamon  country,"*  now 
the  capital  of  Illinois,  and  a  few  farms  were 
opened  in  the  north  of  Madison  county — now 
Morgan  and  Scott.  The  beautiful  valley,  most 
inaptly  called,  of  the  Mauvaisterre,  was  then 
an  unbroken  wilderness. 

The  grass  was  growing  as  high  as  the  head 
of  a  tall  man,  where  now  well-built  streets  and 
public  squares  are  traversed  by  hurrying  crowds. 
Groves  which  have  since  become  classic  were 
then  impenetrable  thickets ;  and  the  only  guides 
the  emigrant  found,  through  forest  and  prairie, 
were  the  points  of  the  compass,  and  the  courses 

*  The  "Sangamon  country,"  as  the  phrase  was  then  used, 
included  all  the  region  watered  by  the  river  of  that  name,  to 
gether  with  the  counties  of  Cass,  Morgan,  and  Scott,  as  far 
south  as  Apple  creek. 


192  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

of  streams.  But  in  the  years  eighteen  hundred 
and  seventeen,  eighteen,  and  nineteen,  the  west 
ern  slope  of  the  Sangamon  country  began 
rapidly  to  improve.  Reports  had  gone  abroad 
of  "  the  fertility  of  its  soil,  the  beauty  of  its 
surface,  its  genial  climate,  and  its  many  ad 
vantages  of  position" — and  there  is  certainly 
no  country  which  more  richly  deserves  these 
praises. 

But  the  first  emigrant  who  made  his  appear 
ance  here,  in  the  autumn  of  eighteen  hundred 
and  nineteen,  was  probably  moved  by  other 
considerations.  It  was  none  other  than  Abram 
Cutler !  And  his  family  consisted  of  a  wife  and 
three  young  children  !  That  wife  was  Margaret 
Roberts  —  or  rather  Margaret  Stone;  for,  not 
withstanding  the  representations  of  Cutler,  her 
union  with  Stone  had  been  perfectly  legal.  By 
what  arts  he  had  succeeded  in  inducing  her  to 
elope  with  him,  we  can  only  judge  from  his 
previous  proceedings ;  but  this  is  certain,  that 
resentment  toward  Stone,  who,  she  probably  be 
lieved,  had  unfairly  trapped  her,  was  as  likely 
to  move  her  impulsive  and  unstable  spirit,  as 
any  other  motive.  Add  to  this,  the  wound 
given  to  her  vanity  by  the  sudden  departure  of 
her  young  husband  upon  a  long  campaign,  with 


THE    REGULATOR.  193 

the  acuteness  given  to  this  feeling  by  the  arts 
of  Cutler,  and  we  shall  not  be  at  a  loss  to  ex 
plain  her  action. 

Whether  she  had  not  bitterly  repented  her 
criminal  haste,  we  know  not ;  but  that  hardship 
and  suffering  of  some  sort  had  preyed  upon  her 
spirit,  was  evident  in  her  appearance.  Her 
beauty  was  much  faded ;  she  had  grown  pale 
and  thin  ;  and  though  she  was  scarcely  yet  in 
the  prime  of  womanhood,  her  step  was  heavy 
and  spiritless.  She  was  not  happy,  of  course, 
but  her  misery  was  not  only  negative :  the 
gnawings  of  remorse  were  but  too  positive  and 
real! 

Cutler  was  changed  almost  as  much  as  his 
victim.  The  lapse  of  seven  years  had  added  a 
score  to  his  apparent  age ;  and,  if  we  are  to 
credit  the  representations  of  persons  who  were 
probably  looking  for  signs  of  vice,  the  advance 
of  time  had  brought  out,  in  well-marked  linea 
ments,  upon  his  countenance,  the  evil  traits  of 
his  character.  His  cheeks  were  sunken,  his 
features  attenuated,  and  his  figure  exceedingly 
spare,  but  he  still  exhibited  marks  of  great  per 
sonal  strength  and  activity.  His  glance,  always 
of  doubtful  meaning,  was  now  unsettled  and 
furtive  ;  and  I  have  heard  one  of  the  actors  in 
this  history  assert,  that  it  had  a  scared,  appre- 


194  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

hensive  expression,  as  if  he  were  in  constant 
expectation  of  meeting  a  dangerous  enemy. 

Nor  is  tills  at  all  improbable,  for  during  the 
seven  years  which  had  elapsed  since  the  con 
summation  of  his  design  upon  Margaret,  he  had 
emigrated  no  less  than  three  times  —  frightened 
away,  at  each  removal,  by  some  intimation,  or 
suspicion,  that  the  avenger  was  on  his  track ! 
"No  wonder  that  his  look  was  wary,  and  his  face 
pale  and  haggard  ! 

On  this,  his  fourth  migration,  he  had  crossed 
the  prairies  from  the  waters  of  the  Wabash  ; 
and  having  placed  the  wide  expanse  of  waving 
plain  between  him  and  the  settlements,  he  at 
length  considered  himself  safe  from  pursuit. 
Passing  by  the  little  trading-station,  where 
Springfield  now  stands,  he  traversed  the  beau 
tiful  country  lying  between  that  and  the  Mau- 
vaisterre.  But  the  alternation  of  stately  timber 
and  lovely  prairie  had  no  charms  for  him  :  he 
sought  not  beauty  or  fertility,  but  seclusion ; 
for  his  pilgrimage  had  become  wearisome,  and 
his  step  was  growing  heavy.  Remorse  was  at 
his  heart,  and  fear — the  appealing  face  of  his 
patient  victim  kept  his  crime  in  continual  re 
membrance —  and  he  knew,  that  like  a  blood 
hound,  his  enemy  was  following  behind.  It 


THE   KEGULATOR.  195 

was  a  weary  load  !     ISTo  wonder  that  his  cheeks 
were  thin  or  his  eyes  wild  ! 

He  passed  on  till  he  came  to  a  quiet,  secluded 
spot,  where  he  thought  himself  not  likely  soon 
to  he  disturbed  by  emigration.  It  was  sixteen 
miles  west  of  the  place  where  Jacksonville  has 
since  been  built,  upon  the  banks  of  the  lower 
Mauvaisterre,  seven  miles  from  the  Illinois  river. 
The  place  was  long  known  as  Cutler's  grove, 
but  a  town  grew  up  around  it,  and  has  been 
christened  by  the  sounding  name  of  Exeter. 
Those  who  visit  it  now,  and  have  heard  the 
story  of  Cutler,  will  commend  his  judgment  in 
selecting  it  for  retirement ;  for,  town  as  it  is,  a 
more  secluded,  dreamy  little  place  is  nowhere 
to  be  found.  It  would  seem  that  the  passage 
of  a  carriage  through  its  street  —  for  it  has  but 
one  —  would  be  an  event  in  its  history  ;  and  the 
only  things  which  redeem  it,  in  the  fancy,  from 
the  category  of  visionary  existences,  are  a  black 
smith's  shop  and  a  mill ! 

But  Cutler's  trail  was  seen  upon  the  prairies, 
and  the  course  of  many  an  emigrant  was  deter 
mined  by  the  direction  taken  by  his  prede 
cessor.  It  was  not  long  before  others  came  to 
"  settle"  in  the  neighborhood.  Emigration  was 


196  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

gradually  encroaching,  also,  from  the  south ; 
families  began  to  take  possession  of  the  river 
"  bottoms  ;"  the  smoke  from  frontier  cabins 
ascended  in  almost  every  point  of  timber ;  and 
by  the  summer  of  eighteen  hundred  and  twenty, 
Cutler  found  himself  as  far  from  the  frontier  as 
ever !  JBut  he  was  resolved  not  to  move  again  : 
a  dogged  spirit — half  weariness,  half  despair 
— had  taken  possession  of  him.  "  I  have  moved 
often  enough,"  he  said  to  Margaret,  "  and  here 
I  am  determined  to  remain,  come  what  may  1" 

Actuated  by  such  feelings  — goaded  by  a  fear 
which  he  could  not  conquer,  and  yet  was  reso 
lute  not  to  indulge  —  the  lurking  devil  in  his 
nature  could  not  long  remain  dormant.  Nothing 
develops  evil  tendencies  so  rapidly  as  the  con 
sciousness  of  wrong  and  the  fear  of  punishment. 
His  life  soon  became  reckless  and  abandoned, 
and  the  first  sign  of  his  degradation  was  his 
neglect  of  his  household.  For  days  together 
Margaret  saw  nothing  of  him  ;  his  only  com 
panions  were  the  worthless  and  outlawed  ;  and, 
when  intoxicating  liquors  could  be  procured, 
which  was,  fortunately,  not  often,  he  indulged 
in  fearful  excesses. 

Of  evil  company,  there  was,  unhappily,  but 
too  much ;  for  the  settlement  was  cursed  with  a 


THE   REGULATOR.  197 

band  of  desperadoes,  exiles  from  organized  so 
ciety,  who  had  sought  the  frontier  to  obtain 
impunity  for  their  misdeeds.  The  leaders  of 
this  band  were  three  brothers,  whom  no  law 
could  control,  no  obligation  restrain ;  and  with 
these  men  Cutler  soon  formed  a  close  and  sus 
picious  intimacy.  The  eyes  of  the  citizens  had 
been  for  some  time  directed  toward  the  com 
panions,  by  circumstances  attending  various 
depredations ;  and,  though  unknown  to  them 
selves,  they  were  constantly  watched  by  many 
of  their  neighbors.  It  is  uncertain  whether 
Cutler  was  acquainted  with  the  character  uf  the 
men  when  his  association  with  them  first  com 
menced,  for  in  none  of  the  places  where  he  had 
lived,  had  he  hitherto  been  suspected  of  crime. 
It  is  most  probable  that  he  sought  their  company 
because  they  were  "  dissipated"  like  himself: 
and  that,  in  the  inception  of  their  acquaintance, 
there  was  no  other  bond  between  them  than  the 
habit  of  intoxication. 

Had  we  time  and  space,  we  would  fain  pause 
here  to  reflect  upon  the  position  and  feelings 
of  the  false  wife  —  deserted,  in  her  turn,  by  him 
for  whom  she  had  given  up  truth  and  honor  — 
alone  in  the  wilderness  with  her  children,  whose 
birth  she  could  not  but  regret,  and  harassed  by 


198  WESTEEN   CHAEACTEES. 

thoughts  which  could  not  but  be  painfully  self- 
condemning.     But  we  must  hasten  on. 

In  the  autumn  of  eighteen  hundred  and 
twenty,  information  was  brought  to  the  settle 
ment,  that  a  store  at  Springfield  (as  it  is  now 
called),  had  been  entered  and  robbed  —  that  the 
leaders  of  the  desperadoes  above  alluded  to, 
were  suspected  —  and  that  the  goods  stolen  were 
believed  to  be  concealed  in  Cutler's  grove, 
where  they  lived.  Warrants  were  issued,  and 
the  three  w^ere  arrested ;  but  the  magistrate 
before  whom  they  were  taken  for  examination, 
was  a  timid  and  ignorant  man  ;  and  by  the  inter 
ference  of  Cutler,  who  assumed  to  be  a  lawyer, 
they  were  examined  separately,  and  allowed  to 
testify,  each  for  the  other !  An  officer  who 
knew  no  more  than  to  permit  this,  of  course 
could  do  no  less  than  discharge  them.  The 
arrest  and  examination,  however,  crude  and  in 
formal  as  they  were,  confirmed  the  suspicions 
of  the  citizens,  and  directed  them,  more  vehe 
mently  than  ever,  against  Cutler,  as  well  as  his 
friends.  It  satisfied  them,  moreover,  that  they 
would  never  be  able  to  reach  these  men  through 
the  ordinary  forms  of  law,  and  strengthened  the 
counsels  of  those  who  had  already  suggested 
the  organization  of  a  company  of  regulators. 


THE   REGULATOR.  199 

While  these  things  were  fermenting  in  the 
minds  of  the  people,  the  desperadoes,  encour 
aged  by  their  success,  and  rendered  bold  by  im 
punity,  committed  their  depredations  more 
frequently  and  openly  than  ever.  It  was  re 
marked,  too,  that  Cutler,  having  committed 
himself  at  the  examination  of  friends,  was  now 
more  constantly  and  avowedly  their  associate ; 
and,  since  he  was  not  a  man  to  play  a  second 
part,  that  they  deferred  to  him  on  all  occasions, 
never  moving  without  him,  and  treating  him  at 
all  times  as  an  acknowledged  leader.  The 
people  observed,  moreover,  that  from  being,  like 
his  neighbors,  a  small  farmer  of  limited  posses 
sions,  he  rose  rapidly  to  what,  on  the  frontier, 
was  considered  affluence.  He  soon  ceased  to 
labor  on  his  lands,  and  set  up  a  very  considera 
ble  "store,"  importing  his  goods  from  Saint 
Louis,  and,  by  means  of  the  whiskey  he  sold, 
collecting  all  the  idle  and  vicious  of  the  settle 
ment  constantly  about  him.  His  "  store"  was 
in  exceedingly  bad  repute,  and  the  scanty  repu 
tation  which  he  had  retained  after  the  public 
part  he  had  taken  before  the  magistrate,  was 
speedily  lost. 

Things  were  in  this  state  in  the  spring  of 
eighteen  hundred  and  twenty-one,  when  an  old 


200  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

gentleman  of  respectable  appearance,  who  had 
emigrated  to  this  country  by  water,  having  been 
pleased,  with  the  land  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  place  where  the  town  of  Naples  now  stands, 
landed  his  family  and  effects,  and  settled  upon 
the  "  bottom.''  It  was  soon  rumored  in  the 
settlement,  that  he  had  brought  with  him  a  large 
amount  of  money  ;  and  it  was  also  remarked 
that  Cutler  and  his  three  companions  were  con 
stantly  with  him,  either  at  the  "  Grove"  or  on 
the  "  bottom."  Whether  the  rumor  was  the 
cause  of  their  attention,  or  their  assiduity  the 
foundation  of  the  report,  the  reader  must  deter 
mine  for  himself. 

One  evening  in  May,  after  a  visit  to  this  man, 
where  Cutler  had  been  alone,  he  came  home  in 
great  haste,  and  suddenly  announced  to  Mar 
garet  his  intention  to  usell  out,"  and  move  fur 
ther  westward  !  His  unhappy  victim  supposed 
she  knew  but  too  well  the  meaning  of  this  new 
movement:  she  asked  no  questions,  but,  with 
a  sigh  of  weariness,  assented.  On  the  follow 
ing  day,  he  commenced  hastily  disposing  of 
his  "store,"  his  stock,  his  cabin — everything,  in 
fact,  save  a  few  farming  utensils,  his  furniture, 
and  a  pair  of  horses.  It  was  observed  —  for 
there  were  many  eyes  upon  him — that  he 


THE    BKGULATOR.  201 

never  ventured  out  after  twilight,  and,  even  in 
the  broad  sunshine,  would  not  travel  far,  alone 
or  unarmed.  In  such  haste  did  he  seem,  that 
he  sold  many  of  his  goods  at,  what  his  friends 
considered,  a  ruinous  sacrifice.  The  fame  of 
great  bargains  brought  man}7  people  to  his 
counter,  so  that,  within  ten  days,  his  arrange 
ments  were  complete ;  and,  much  to  the  satis 
faction  of  his  neighbors,  he  set  out  toward  the 
river. 

Two  of  his  associates  accompanied  him  on  his 
journey  —  a  precaution  for  which  he  would  give 
no  reason,  except  that  he  wished  to  converse 
with  them  on  the  way.  He  crossed  the  Illinois 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Mauvaisterre,  and,  turn 
ing  northward,  in  the  evening  reached  a  cabin 
on  the  banks  of  M'Kee's  creekr  not  more  than 
ten  miles  from  his  late  residence.  This  house 
had  been  abandoned  by  its  former  occupant,  on 
account  of  the  forays  of  the  Indians ;  but  was 
now  partially  refitted,  as  for  a,  temporary  abode. 
Here,  the  people  about  "  the  grove"  were  sur 
prised  to  learn,  a  few  days  after  Cutler's  de 
parture,  that  he  had  halted  with  the  apparent 
intention  to  remain,  at  least  for  some  time. 

Their  surprise  was  dissipated,  however,  with 
in  a   very    few  weeks.     The   old   gentleman, 
9* 


202  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

spoken  of  above,  had  left  home  upon  a  visit  to 
Saint  Louis;  and  during  his  absence,  his  house 
had  been  entered,  and  robbed  of  a  chest  con 
taining  a  large  amount  of  money — while  the 
family  were  intimidated  by  the  threats  of  men 
disguised  as  savages. 

This  was  the  culmination  of  villany.  The 
settlement  was  now  thoroughly  aroused ;  and, 
when  one  of  these  little  communities  was  once 
in  earnest,  it  might  safely  be  predicted  that 
something  would  be  done  ! 

The  first  step  was  to  call  "  a  meeting  of  the 
friends  of  law  and  order;"  but  no  proclamation 
was  issued,  no  handbills  were  circulated,  no 
notices  posted:  not  the  least  noise  was  made 
about  the  matter,  lest  those  against  whom  it 
was  to  act,  might  hear  of  and  prepare  for  it. 
They  came  together  quietly  but  speedily  — 
each  man,  as  he  heard  of  the  appointment, 
going  forthwith  to  his  neighbor  with  the  news. 
They  assembled  at  a  central  point,  where  none 
need  be  late  in  coming,  and  immediately  pro 
ceeded  to  business.  The  meeting  was  not  al 
together  a  formal  one  —  for  purposes  prescribed 
bylaw  —  but  it  was  a  characteristic  of  those 
men,  to  do  everything  "decently  and  in 
order"  —  to  give  all  their  proceedings  the 


THE    REGULATOR.  203 

sanction  and  solemnity  of  mature  deliberation. 
They  organized  the  assemblage  regularly  — 
calling  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respectable 
of  their  number  "  to  the  chair"  (which,  on  this 
occasion,  happened  to  be  the  root  of  a  large 
oak),  and  appointing  a  younger  man  secretary 
(though  they  gave  him  no  desk  on  which  to 
write).  There  was  no  man  there  who  did  not 
fully  understand  what  had  brought  them  to 
gether  ;  but  one  who  lived  in  the  "  bottom," 
and  had  been  the  mover  of  the  organization, 
was  still  called  upon  to  "  explain  the  object  of 
the  meeting."  This  he  did  in  a  few  pointed 
sentences,  concluding  with  these  significant 
words :  "  My  friends,  it  is  time  that  these  ras 
cals  were  punished,  and  it  is  our  duty  to  punish 
them." 

He  sat  down,  and  a  silence  of  some  moments 
ensued,  when  another  arose,  and,  without  any 
preliminary  remarks,  moved  that  "  a  company 
of  regulators  be  now  organized,  and  that  they 
be  charged  with  the  duty  of  seeing  the  law  ad- 
•ministered."  The  motion  was  seconded  by 
half  a  dozen  voices  —  the  question  was  put  in 
due  form  by  the  chairman,  and  decided  unan 
imously  in  the  affirmative. 

A  piece  of  paper  was  produced,  and  the  pre 
siding  officer  called  on  the  meeting  for  volun- 


204:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

teers.  Ten  young  men  stepped  forward,  and 
gave  their  names  as  rapidly  as  the  secretary 
could  enrol  them.  In  less  than  five  minutes, 
the  company  was  complete  —  the  chairman  and 
four  of  the  meeting,  as  a  committee,  were  di 
rected  to  retire  with  the  volunteers,  and  see 
that  they  were  fully  organized  —  and  the  meet 
ing  adjourned.  All,  except  the  volunteers  and 
the  committee,  went  directly  home  —  satisfied 
that  the  matter  needed  no  further  attention. 
Those  who  remained  entered  the  house  and 
proceeded  to  organize  in  the  usual  manner. 

A  "  compact"  was  drawn  up,  by  the  terms 
of  which  the  regulators  bound  themselves  to 
each  other,  and  to  their  neighbors,  to  ferret  out 
and  punish  the  perpetrators  of  the  offences, 
which  had  recently  disturbed  the  peace  of  the 
settlement,  and  to  rid  the  country  of  such  vil 
lains  as  were  obnoxious  to  the  friends  of  law 
and  order.  This  was  then  signed  by  the  vol- 
lunteers  as  principals,  and  by  the  committee, 
as  witnesses ;  and  was  placed  in  the  hands  of 
the  chairman  of  the  meeting  for  safekeeping.' 
It  is  said  to  be  still  in  existence,  though  I  have 
never  seen  it,  and  do  not  know  where  it  is  to  be 
found. 

When  this  arrangement  was  completed,  the 
committee  retired,  and  the  company  repaired 


THE   KEGULATOR.  205 

to  the  woods,  to  choose  a  leader.     They  were 

not  long  in  selecting  a  certain  Major  B , 

who  had,  for  some  weeks,  made  himself  con 
spicuous,  by  his  loud  denunciations  of  Cutler 
and  his  associates,  and  his  zealous  advocacy  of 
"  strong  measures."  They  had  —  one  or  two 
of  them,  at  least  —  some  misgivings  about  this 
appointment;  for  the  major  was  inclined  to  be 
a  blusterer,  and  the  courage  of  these  men  was 
eminently  silent.  But  after  a  few  minutes'  dis 
cussion,  the  matter  was  decided,  and  the  leader 
was  chosen  without  opposition.  They  at  once 
dispersed,  to  make  arrangements  for  the  per 
formance  of  their  duties  —  having  first  appoint 
ed  an  hour  and  a  place  of  meeting.  They  were 
to  assemble  at  sunset  on  the  same  day,  at  the 
point  where  the  state  road  now  crosses  the 
"bluff;"  and  were  to  proceed  thence,  without 
delay,  to  Cutler's  house  on  M'Kee's  creek,  a 
distance  of  little  more  than  eight  miles.  There 
they  were  to  search  for  the  stolen  property,  and 
whether  they  found  it  or  not,  were  resolved  to 
notify  Cutler  to  leave  the  country.  But  under 
no  circumstances  were  they  to  take  his  life,  un 
less  it  became  necessary  in  self-defence. 

The  hour   came,  and   with  it,  to  the  bluff, 
came  all  the  regulators — save  one.     But  that 


206  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

one  was  a  very  important  personage  —  none 
other,  indeed,  than  the  redoubtable  major, 
who  was  to  head  the  party.  The  nine  were 
there  a  considerable  time  before  sunset,  and 
waited  patiently  for  their  captain's  arrival ; 
though,  already,  there  were  whisperings  from 
those  who  had  been  doubtful  of  him  in  the 
outset,  that  he  would  not  keep  his  appointment. 
And  these  were  right — for,  though  they  wait 
ed  long  beyond  the  time,  the  absentee  did  not 
make  his  appearance.  It  was  afterward  ascer 
tained  that  he  excused  himself  upon  the  plea 
of  sudden  illness ;  but  he  was  very  well  again 
on  the  following  day,  and  his  excuse  was  not 
received.  The  ridicule  growing  out  of  the 
affair,  and  his  reduction  from  the  rank  of  major 
to  that  of  captain,  in  derision,  finally  drove  him 
in  disgrace  from  the  country. 

His  defection  left  the  little  company  without 
a  leader;  and  though  they  were  determined 
not  to  give  up  the  enterprise,  an  obstacle  to  its 
prosecution  arose,  in  the  fact  that  no  one  was 
willing  to  replace  the  absent  captain.  Each 
was  anxious  to  play  the  part  of  a  private,  and 
all  had  come  prepared  to  discharge  the  duties 
of  the  expedition,  to  the  utmost  of  their  ability. 
But  they  were  all  young  men,  and  no  one  felt 
competent  to  take  the  responsibility  of  com 
mand. 


THE   REGULATOR.  207 

They  were  standing  in  a  group,  consulting 
eagerly  about  their  course,  and,  as  one  of  them 
afterward  said,  "  nearly  at  their  wits'  end," 
when  the  circle  was  suddenly  entered  by  an 
other.  He  had  come  upon  them  so  noiselessly, 
and  they  had  been  so  much  absorbed  in  their 
council,  that  no  one  saw  him  until  lie  stood  in 
their  midst.  Several  of  them,  however,  at  once 
recognised  him,  as  a  hunter  who  had  recently 
appeared  in  the  southern  part  of  the  county, 
and  had  lived  a  singularly  solitary  life.  ~No 
one  knew  his  name,  but,  from  his  mode  of 
life,  he  was  already  known  among  those  who 
had  heard  of  him,  as  "the  wild  hunter." 
He  was  but  little  above  the  medium  height, 
and  rather  slender  in  figure ;  but  he  was  well 
and  firmly  built,  and  immediately  impressed 
them  with  the  idea  of  great  hardihood  and 
activity.  His  face,  though  bronzed  by  expo 
sure,  was  still  handsome  and  expressive ;  but 
there  was  a  certain  wildness  in  the  eye,  and  a 
compression  about  the  mouth,  which  gave  it 
the  expression  of  fierceness,  as  well  as  resolu 
tion.  He  was  dressed  in  a  hunting-shirt  and 
"leggings"  of  deerskin,  fringed  or  "fingered" 
on  the  edges ;  and  his  head  and  feet  were  cov 
ered,  the  one  by  a  cap  of  panther's  hide,  and 
the  others  by  moccasins  of  dressed  buckskin. 


208  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

At  his  belt  hung  a  long  knife,  and  in  his  hand 
he  carried  a  heavy  "Kentucky  rifle." 

As  he  entered  the  circle,  he  dropped  the 
breech  of  the  latter  to  the  ground,  and,  leaning 
calmly  upon  the  muzzle,  quietly  surveyed  the 
countenances  of  the  group,  in  profound  silence. 
The  regulators  were  too  much  surprised  to 
speak  while  this  was  going  on  ;  and  the  stran 
ger  seemed  to  be  in  no  haste  to  open  the  con 
versation.  "When  he  had  finished  his  scrutiny, 
however,  he  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two,  and 
resuming  his  easy  attitude,  addressed  them: — 

"You  must  pardon  me,  my  friends,"  he 
commenced,  "  when  I  tell  you,  that  I  have 
overheard  all  you  have  said  in  the  last  half 
hour.  I  did  not  remain  in  that  thicket,  how 
ever,  for  the  purpose  of  eaves-dropping;  but 
having  accidentally  heard  one  of  you  mention 
a  name,  the  sound  of  which  touches  a  chord 
whose  vibrations  you  can  not  understand,  I 
remained,  almost  against  my  own  will,  to  learn 
more.  I  thus  became  acquainted  with  the 
object  of  your  meeting,  and  the  dilemma  in 
which  you  find  yourselves  placed  by  the  ab 
sence  of  your  leader.  Now,  I  have  but  little 
interest  in  this  settlement,  and  none  in  the  pres 
ervation  of  peace,  or  the  vindication  of  Jaw, 
anywhere :  but  I  have  been  seeking  this  man, 


THE    REGULATOR.  209 

Cutler,  of  whom  you  spoke,  nearly  nine  years. 
I  supposed,  a  few  days  ago,  that  I  had  at  last 
found  him  ;  but  on  going  to  his  house,  I  learned 
that  he  had  once  more  emigrated  tow-ard  the 
west.  You  seem  to  know  where  he  is  to  be 
found,  and  are  without  a  leader:  I  wish  to  find 
him,  and,  if  you  will  accept  my  services,  will 
fill  the  place  of  your  absent  captain !" 

He  turned  away  as  he  finished,  allowing 
them  an  opportunity  for  consultation  among 
themselves.  The  question  was  soon  decided : 
they  called  him  back  —  announced  their  wil 
lingness  to  accept  him  as  their  leader  —  and 
asked  his  name. 

" My  name  is  Stone"  he  replied. 

It  was  after  nightfall  when  the  little  party 
set  out  from  the  bluff.  They  had,  then,  more 
than  eight  miles  to  travel,  over  a  country  en 
tirely  destitute  of  roads,,  and  cut  up  by  num 
berless  sloughs  and  ponds.  They  had,  more 
over,  a  considerable  river  to  cross,  and,  after 
that,  several  miles  of  their  way  lay  through  a 
dense  and  pathless  forest.  But  they  were  not 
the  men  to  shrink  from  difficulties,  at  any  time  ; 
and  now  they  were  carried  along  even  more 
resolutely,  by  the  stern,  unwavering  spirit  of 
their  new  leader.  Having  once  learned  the 


210  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

direction,  Stone  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
party,  and  strode  forward,  almost  "  as  the  bird 
flies,"  directly  toward  the  point  indicated,  re 
gardless  of  slough,  and  swamp,  and  thicket 
lie  moved  rapidly,  too  —  so  rapidly,  indeed, 
as  to  tax  the  powers  of  some  of  his  followers 
almost  too  severely.  Notwithstanding  this 
swiftness,  however,  they  could  not  avoid  a 
long  delay  at  the  river;  and  it  was  conse 
quently  near  midnight,  when,  having  at  last 
accomplished  a  crossing,  they  reached  the 
hank  of  M'Kee's  creek,  and  turned  up  toward 
Cutler's  bouse. 

This  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  "  clearing," 
some  two  or  three  acres  in  extent ;  and  upon 
reaching  its  eastern  limit,  the  little  company 
halted  to  reconnoitre.  Notwithstanding  the 
lateness  of  the  hour,  they  discovered  that  the 
people  of  the  house  were  still  awake ;  and  by 
a  bright  light,  which  streamed  through  the 
open  door,  they  could  see  several  men,  sitting 
and  standing  about  the  room. 

"  We  shall  make  a  good  haul,"  said  one  of 
the  regulators ;  "  the  whole  gang  is  there." 
And  immediately  the  party  were  for  rushing 
forward.  But  Stone  restrained  them. 

"My  friends,"  said  he,  "you  have  taken  me 
for  your  leader,  and  must  obey  my  directions." 


THE   EEGULATOK.  211 

He  then  announced  his  determination  to  go 
forward  alone ;  instructing  bis  men,  however, 
to  follow  at  a  little  distance,  but  in  no  case  to 
show  themselves  until  he  should  give  the  sig 
nal.  They  agreed,  though  reluctantly,  to  this 
arrangement,  and  then  —  silently,  slowly,  but 
surely  —  the  advance  commenced.  The  hour 
had  at  last  arrived  ! 

In  the  meantime,  Cutler  and  his  three  friends 
were  passing  the  time  quite  pleasantly  over  a 
bottle  of  backwoods  nectar — commonly  called 
whiskey.  They  seemed  well  pleased,  too,  with 
some  recent  exploit  of  theirs,  and  were  evident 
ly  congratulating  themselves  upon  their  dex 
terity  ;  for,  as  the  "  generous  liquid"  reeked 
warmly  to  their  brains,  they  chuckled  over  it, 
and  hinted  at  it,  and  winked  knowingly  at  each 
other,  as  if  they  enjoyed  both  the  recollection 
and  the  whiskey  —  as  they  probably  did,  ex 
ceedingly.  There  were  four  present,  as  we 
said  —  Cutler  and  the  three  worthies  so  often 
alluded  to.  These  last  sat  not  far  from  the 
open  door ;  and  each  in  his  hand  held  a  ker 
chief,  or  something  of  that  description,  of 
which  the  contents  were  apparently  very  pre 
cious  ;  for,  at  intervals  of  a  few  moments,  each 
raised  his  bundle  between  him  and  the  light, 


212  WESTERN   CIIAEACTEKS. 

and  then  were  visible  many  circular  prints,  as 
if  made  by  the  coinage  of  the  mint.  This  idea 
was  strengthened,  too,  by  several  piles  of  gold 
and  silver,  which  lay  upon  the  table  near  the 
bottle,  to  which  Cutler  directed  no  infrequent 
glances. 

They  had  all  been  indulging  pretty  freely  in 
their  devotions  to  the  mythological  liquid  — 
rewarding  themselves,  like  soldiers  after  storm 
ing  a  hostile  city,  for  their  hardships  and 
daring.  There  were  a  few  coals  in  the  chim 
ney,  although  it  was  early  in  the  autumn  ;  and 
on  them  were  lying  dark  and  crumpled  cinders, 
as  of  paper,  over  which  little  sparks  were  slowly 
creeping,  like  fiery  insects.  Cutler  turned  them 
over  with  his  foot,  and  there  arose  a  small  blue, 
flickering  blaze,  throwing  a  faint,  uncertain  light 
beneath  the  table,  and  into  the  further  corners 
of  the  room,  and  casting  shadows  of  the  money- 
bundles  on  the  open  door. 

If  the  betrayer  could  have  known  what  eyes 
were  strained  upon  him,  as  he  thus  carelessly 
thrust  his  foot  among  the  cinders,  how  changed 
his  bearing  would  have  been.  Stone  had  now 
approached  within  fifty  paces  of  the  house,  and 
behind  him,  slowly  creeping  after,  were  the 
regulators.  A  broad  band  of  light  streamed 


THE   REGULATOR.  213 

out  across  the  clearing  from  the  door,  while,  on 
each  side  of  this,  all  lay  in  shadow  deepened  by 
the  contrast.  Through  the  shadows,  cautiously 
and  silently  came  the  footsteps  of  the  avenger! 
There  was  no  trepidation,  no  haste  —  the  strange 
leader  rather  lingered,  with  a  deadly  slowness, 
as  if  the  movement  was  a  pleasant  one,  and  he 
disliked  to  end  it.  But  he  never  halted — not 
even  for  a  moment — he  came,  like  fate,  slowly, 
but  surely  ! 

"  Come,  boys,"  said  Cutler,  and  his  voice 
penetrated  the  stillness  quite  across  the  clear 
ing,  "let  us  take  another  drink,  and  then  lie 
down ;  we  shall  have  a  long  journey  to-morrow." 

They  all  advanced  to  the  table  and  drained 
the  bottle.  Cutler  drank  last,  and  then  went 
back  to  the  fire.  He  again  stirred  the  smoul 
dering  cinders  with  his  foot,  and,  turning 
about,  advanced  to  close  the  door.  But  —  he 
halted  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  the  room  — 
his  face  grew  ashy  pale — his  limbs  trembled 
with  terror!  Stone  stepped  upon  the  tliresh- 
hold,  and,  without  speaking,  brought  his  rifle 
to  his  shoulder  !  Cutler  saw  that  it  pointed  to 
his  heart,  but  he  had  not  the  power  to  speak  or 
move! 

"Villain!"  said  Stone,  in  a  low,  suppressed 
voice,  "  your  hour  has  come,  at  last !" 


214  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Cutler  was  by  no  means  a  coward  ;  by  any 
one  else  lie  would  not  Lave  been  overcome, 
even  for  an  instant.  As  it  was,  he  soon  recov 
ered  himself  and  sprang  forward  ;  but  it  was 
only  to  fall  heavily  to  the  floor;  for  at  the 
same  moment  Stone  fired,  and  the  ball  passed 
directly  through  his  heart !  A  groan  was  the 
only  sound  he  uttered  —  his  arm  moved,  as  in 
the  act  of  striking,  and  then  fell  to  the  ground 
—  he  was  dead  ! 

The  regulators  now  rushed  tumnltuously  into 
the  house,  and  at  once  seized  and  pinioned  the 
three  desperadoes ;  while  Stone  walked  slowly 
to  the  hearth,  and  resting  the  breech  of  his  gun 
upon  the  floor,  leaned  calmly  upon  its  muzzle. 
He  had  heard  a  scream  from  above  —  a  voice 
which  he  knew  too  well.  Margaret  had  been 
aroused  from  sleep  by  the  report  of  the  gun ; 
and  now,  in  her  night-dress,  with  her  hair 
streaming  in  masses  over  her  shoulders,  she 
rushed  down  the  rude  stairway.  The  first  ob 
ject  that  met  her  wild  gaze  was  the  body  of 
Cutler,  stretched  upon  the  floor  and  already 
stiffening  in  death.  With  another  loud  scream, 
she  threw  herself  upon  him  —  mingling  lament 
ations  for  his  death,  with  curses  upon  his  mur 
derers. 

Stone's  features  worked   convulsively,   and 


THE   EEGULATOE.  215 

once  or  twice  his  hand  grasped  the  hilt  of  the 
knife  which  hung  at  his  belt.  At  last,  with  a 
start,  he  drew  it  from  the  sheath.  But,  the 
next  moment,  he  dashed  it  into  the  chimney, 
and  leaning  his  gun  against  the  wall,  slowly 
advanced  toward  the  unhappy  woman.  Grasp 
ing  her  arm,  he  lifted  her  like  a  child  from  the 
body  to  which  she  clung.  Averting  his  head, 
he  drew  her,  struggling  madly,  to  the  light ; 
and  having  brought  her  face  full  before  the 
lamp,  suddenly  threw  off  his  cap,  and  turned 
his  gaze  directly  into  her  eyes.  A  scream, 
louder  and  more  fearful  than  any  before,  rang 
even  to  the  woods  beyond  the  clearing ;  she 
closed  her  eyes  and  shuddered,  as  if  she  could 
not  bear  to  look  upon  him,  whom  she  had  so 
deeply  wronged.  He  supported  her  on  his 
arm,  and  perused  her  sunken  and  careworn 
features,  for  many  minutes,  in  silence.  Then 
slowly  relaxing  his  grasp  — 

"You  have  been  punished  sufficiently,"  he 
said  ;  and  seating  her  gently  upon  the  floor,  he 
quietly  replaced  his  knife  in  its  sheath,  resumed 
his  rifle,  and  left  the  house. 

He  was  never  again  seen  by  any  of  the  par 
ties,  except  Margaret.  She,  soon  after  this 
event,  returned  to  Virginia;  and  here  Stone 


216  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

paid  her  an  annual  visit.  lie  always  came  with 
out  notice,  and  departed  as  suddenly,  always 
bearing  his  rifle,  and  habited  as  a  hunter.  At 
such  times  he  sought  to  be  alone  with  her  but  a 
few  moments,  and  never  spoke  more  than  three 
words  :  "  Your  punishment  continues,"  he  would 
say,  after  gazing  at  her  worn  and  haggard  face 
for  some  minutes  ;  and,  then,  throwing  his  rifle 
over  his  shoulder,  he  would  again  disappear  for 
twelve  months  more. 

And  truly  her  punishment  did  continue  ;  for 
though  no  one  accurately  knew  her  history,  she 
was  an  object  of  suspicion  to  all;  and  though 
she  led  a  most  exemplary  life,  her  reputation 
was  evil,  and  her  misery  was  but  too  evident. 
One  after  the  other,  her  children  died,  and  she 
was  left  utterly  alone  !  At  last  her  lamp  also 
began  to  flicker,  and  when  Stone  arrived  in  the 
country,  upon  his  twelfth  annual  visit,  it  was 
but  to  see  her  die,  and  follow  her  to  the  grave ! 
He  received  her  last  breath,  but  no  one  knew 
what  passed  between  them  in  that  awful  hour. 
On  the  day  after  her  burial  he  went  away  and 
returned  no  more. 

The  regulators  hastily  dug  a  grave  on  the 
bank  of  the  creek,  and  in  the  silence  of  the 
night  placed  Cutler  within  it.  Then,  taking 


THE   REGULATOR.  217 

possession  of  the  stolen  money,  they  released 
their  prisoners,  notifying  them  to  leave  the 
country  within  ten  days,  and  returned  to  the 
east  side  of  the  river.  A  few  years  ago,  a  little 
mound  might  be  seen,  where  they  had  heaped 
the  dirt  upon  the  unhappy  victim  of  his  own 
passions.  It  was  "  the  first  grave"  in  which  a 
white  man  was  buried  in  that  part  of  the  Illinois 
valley. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  ten  "  days  of  grace," 
it  became  the  duty  of  the  regulators  to  see  that 
their  orders  had  been  obeyed  ;  and,  though  the 
death  of  Cutler  had  been  more  than  they  had 
designed  or  foreseen,  they  had  no  disposition  to 
neglect  it.  They  met,  accordingly,  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  eleventh  day,  and  having  chosen  a 
new  leader,  proceeded  to  Cutler's  grove.  They 
found  the  houses  of  all  those  to  whom  they  had 
given  "  notice"  deserted  excepting  one. .  This 
was  the  cabin  of  the  youngest  of  the  three 
brothers ;  and  declaring  his  intention  to  remain, 
in  defiance  of  regulators  and  "  Lynch  law,"  he 
put  himself  upon  his  defence.  Without  cere 
mony  the  regulators  set  fire  to  the  house  in 
which  he  had  barricaded  himself,  and  ten 
minutes  sufficed  to  smoke  him  out.  They  then 
discovered  what  they  had  not  before  known: 
10 


218  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

that  his  elder  brothers  were  also  within ;  and 
when  the  three  rushed  from  the  door,  though 
taken  by  surprise,  they  were  not  thrown  off 
their  guard.  The  trio  were  at  once  seized,  and, 
after  a  sharp  struggle,  securely  pinioned.  A 
short  consultation  then  decided  their  course. 

Leaving  the  house  to  burn  at  leisure,  they 
posted  away  for  the  river,  driving  their  prisoners 
before  them,  and  a  march  of  three  hours  brought 
them  to  the  mouth  of  the  Mauvaisterre.  Here 
they  constructed  a  "  raft,"  by  tying  half-a-dozen 
drift-logs  together,  and  warning  them  that  death 
would  be  the  penalty  of  a  return,  they  placed 
their  prisoners  upon  it,  pushed  it  into  the  middle 
of  the  stream,  and  set  them  adrift  without  oar 
or  pole !  Although  this  seems  quite  severe 
enough,  it  was  a  light  punishment  compared  to 
that  sometimes  administered  by  regulators;  and 
in  this  case,  had  not  blood  been  spilt  when  they 
did  not  intend  it,  it  is  probable  that  the  culprits 
would  have  been  first  tied  to  a  tree,  and 
thoroughly  "  lynched." 

The  involuntary  navigators  were  not  rescued 
from  their  unpleasant  position  until  they  had 
nearly  reached  Saint  Louis;  and  though  they 
all  swore  vengeance  in  a  loud  voice,  not  one  of 
them  was  ever  again  seen  in  the  Sangamon 
country. 


THE    REGULATOR.  219 

Vigorous  measures,  like  those  we  have  de 
tailed,  were  usually  effectual  in  restoring  good 
order.  Where  there  was  no  trial,  there  was  no 
room  for  false  witnesses ;  and  where  a  punish 
ment,  not  unfrequently  disproportioned  to  the 
offence,  so  rapidly  and  certainly  followed  its 
commission,  there  was  little  prospect  of  im- 
•punity,  and  therefore  slight  inducement  to 
violate  the  law.  In  most  localities,  it  required 
but  few  severe  lessons  to  teach  desperadoes  that 
prudence  dictated  their  emigration ;  and,  it  must 
be  acknowledged,  that  the  regulators  were 
prompt  and  able  teachers. 

But  we  should  give  only  a  partial  and  incom 
plete  view  of  this  institution  (for  such,  in  fact, 
it  was),  were  we  to  notice  its  uses  and  say 
nothing  of  its  abuse;  because,  like  everything 
else  partaking  so  largely  of  the  mob  element,  it 
was  liable  to  most  mischievous  perversions. 
Had  the  engine  been  suffered  to  rest,  when  it 
had  performed  its  legitimate  functions,  all  would 
have  been  well ;  but  the  great  vice  of  the  sys 
tem  wras  its  obstinate  vitality:  it  refused  to  die 
when  its  life  was  no  longer  useful. 

As  soon  as  the  danger  was  past,  and  the  call 
for  his  services  had  ceased,  the  good  citizen, 
who  alone  could  confine  such  a  system  to  its 
proper  limits,  retired  from  its  ranks :  it  was  con- 


220  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

sequently  left,  with  all  its  dangerous  authority, 
in  the  hands  of  the  reckless  and  violent.  The 
selfish  and  designing  soon  filled  up  the  places 
of  the  sober  and  honest,  and  from  being  a  terror 
to  evil-doers,  and  a  protection  to  the  peaceful 
citizen,  it  became  a  weapon  in  the  hands  of  the 
very  men  against  whom  it  should  have  been 
directed. 

When  this  came  to  be  the  case,  the  institution 
was  in  danger  of  doing  more  harm  in  its  age, 
than  it  had  accomplished  of  good  in  its  youth. 
But  it  must  not  thence  be  inferred  that  it 
should  never  have  been  adopted,  or  that  it  was 
vicious  in  itself.  In  seasons  of  public  danger, 
extraordinary  powers  are  often  intrusted  to 
individuals  —  powers  which  nothing  but  that 
danger  can  justify,  and  which  would  constitute 
the  dictators  intolerable  despots,  if  they  were 
retained  after  the  crises  are  passed.  The  Con 
gress  of  our  confederacy,  for  example,  found  it 
necessary,  at  one  period  of  our  Revolutionary 
struggle,  to  invest  Washington  with  such 
authority ;  had  he  exercised  it  beyond  the 
pressure  of  immediate  peril,  the  same  outcry 
which  has  been  made  against  others  in  similar 
circumstances,  would  have  been  justly  raised 
against  him.  And  most  men,  less  soberly  con 
stituted  than  "Washington,  would  have  en- 


THE   KEGTJLATOB.  221 

deavored  to  retain  it ;  for  power  is  a  pleasant 
thing,  which  few  have  the  self-denial  to  resign 
without  a  struggle.  The  wrong  consists  not  in 
the  original  delegation  of  the  authority  —  for 
that  is  justified  by  the  highest  of  all  laws,  the 
law  of  self-preservation  —  hut  in  its  retention 
and  exercise,  when  the  exigency  no  longer  sup 
ports  it. 

Having  parted  with  the  authority  to  redress 
grievances,  and  provide  for  protection  and  de 
fence,  the  citizen  can  not  at  once  recover  it — 
it  remains  for  a  time  in  the  hands  of  the  repre 
sentative,  and  is  always  difficult  to  regain.  But 
it  does  not  therefore  follow,  that  he  should 
never  intrust  it  to  another,  for  the  inconveni 
ence  sometimes  resulting  from  its  delegation,  is 
one  of  the  incidents  to  human  life,  teaching,  not 
obstinacy  or  jealousy,  but  circumspection. 

The  following  story,  related  by  one  who  is 
well-acquainted  with  the  early  history  of  this 
country,  will  illustrate  the  manner  in  which  the 
regulator  system  was  sometimes  made  subser 
vient  to  men's  selfish  purposes  ;  and  there  have, 
unhappily,  been  too  many  instances,  in  which 
such  criminal  schemes  were  more  successful 
than  they  were  in  this.  I  have  entitled  it 
"The  Stratagem." 


222  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 


THE    STRATAGEM. 


ROBERT  ELWOOD  emigrated  from  Kentucky  to 
Illinois,  about  the  year  in  which  the  latter  was 
erected  into  a  state,  and  passing  to  the  north 
west  of  the  regions  then  occupied  by  the  French 
and  Virginians,  pitched  his  tent  upon  the  very 
verge  of  the  frontier.  He  was  a  man  of  violent 
passions,  impatient  of  the  restraints  of  law — • 
arrogant,  overbearing,  and  inclined  to  the  use 
of  "  the  strong-hand."  His  removal  had  been 
caused  by  a  difficulty  with  one  of  his  neighbors, 
in  which  he  had  attempted  to  right  himself 
without  an  appeal  to  the  legal  tribunals.  In 
this  attempt,  he  had  not  only  been  thwarted, 
but  also  made  to  pay  rather  roundly  for  his 
temerity ;  and,  vexed  and  soured,  he  had  at 
once  abandoned  his  old  name,  and  marched  off 
across  the  prairies,  seeking  a  country  in  which, 
as  he  said,  "  a  man  need  not  meet  a  cursed  con 
stable  every  time  he  left  his  own  door."  His 
family  consisted  of  three  sons  and  one  daughter, 
the  latter  being,  at  the  time  of  his  emigration, 
about  sixteen  years  of  age. 

In  journeying  toward  the  north,  he  halted 
one  day,  at  noon,  within  a  "point"  of  timber. 


THE   REGULATOR.  223 

winch  extended  a  mile  into  the  prairie,  and 
was  surrounded  by  as  beautiful  a  piece  of  rol 
ling  meadow-land,  as  one  need  wish  to  see.  He 
was  already  half-a-day's  journey  beyond  the 
thicker  settlements ;  and,  indulging  a  reason 
able  hope  that  he  would  not  speedily  be  an 
noyed  by  neighbors,  he  at  once  determined 
here  to  erect  his  dwelling  and  open  a  new 
farm.  "With  this  view,  he  marked  oif  a  tract 
of  about  four  hundred  acres,  including  the 
point  of  timber  in  which  he  was  encamped ; 
and  before  the  heats  of  summer  came  on,  he 
had  a  cabin  ready  for  his  reception,  and  a  con 
siderable  amount  of  grain  planted. 

About  a  mile  to  the  south,  there  was  a  simi 
lar  strip  of  timber,  surrounded,  like  that  of 
which  he  took  possession,  by  a  rich  tract  of 
"  rolling  prairie  ;"  and  this  he  at  once  resolved 
to  include  in  his  farm.  But,  reflecting  that  it 
must  probably  be  some  years,  before  any  one 
else  would  enter  the  neighborhood  to  take  it 
up  —  and  having  only  the  assistance  of  his 
sons,  but  two  of  whom  had  reached  manhood 
—  he  turned  his  attention,  first,  to  the  tract 
upon  which  he  lived.  This  was  large  enough 
to  engross  his  efforts  for  the  present ;  and,  for 
two  years,  he  neglected  to  do  anything  toward 
establishing  his  claim  to  the  land  he  coveted. 


224:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

It  is  true,  that  he  told  several  of  his  neighbors, 
who  had  now  begun  to  settle  around  him,  that 
he  claimed  that  piece,  and  thus  prevented  their 
enclosing  it ;  but  he  neither  "  blazed"  nor 
marked  the  trees,  nor  "  staked  off"  the  prairie. 

In  the  meantime  emigration  had  come  in,  so 
much  more  rapidly  than  he  had  expected,  that 
he  found  himself  the  centre  of  a  populous 
neighborhood ;  and  among  other  signs  of  ad 
vancing  civilization,  a  company  of  regulators 
had  been  organized,  for  the  protection  of  life 
and  property.  Of  this  band,  Elwood,  always 
active  and  forward,  had  been  chosen  leader; 
and  the  vigor  and  severity  with  which  he  had 
exercised  his  functions,  had  given  a  degree  of 
quiet  to  the  settlements,  not  usually  enjoyed 
by  these  frontier  communities.  One  example 
had,  at  the  period  of  the  opening  of  our  story, 
but  recently  been  made ;  and  its  extreme  rigor 
had  frightened  away  from  the  neighborhood, 
those  who  had  hitherto  disturbed  its  peace. 
This  was  all  the  citizens  desired ;  and,  having 
accomplished  their  ends,  safety  and  tranquillity, 
those  whose  conservative  character  had  pre 
vented  the  regulator  system  from  running  into 
excesses,  withdrew  from  its  ranks — but  took 
no  measures  to  have  it  broken  up.  It  was  thus 


THE   REGULATOR.  225 

left,  with  recognised  authority,  in  the  hands  of 
Elwood,  and  others  of  his  violent  and  unscru 
pulous  character. 

Things  were  in  this  position,  when,  on  his 
return  from  an  expedition  of  some  length,  El- 
wood  bethought  him  of  the  handsome  tract  of 
land,  upon  which  he  had  so  long  ago  set  his 
heart.  "What  were  his  surprise  and  rage  on 
learning — a  fact,  which  the  absorbing  nature 
of  his  regulator-duties  had  prevented  his  know 
ing  sooner  —  that  it  was  already  in  possession 
of  another !  And  his  mortification  was  im 
measurably  increased,  when  he  was  told,  that 
the  man  who  had  thus  intruded  upon  what  he 
considered  his  own  proper  demesne,  was  none 
other  than  young  Gray  son,  the  son  of  his  old 
Kentucky  enemy  !  Coming  into  the  neighbor 
hood,  in  the  absence  of  Elwood,  the  young 
man,  finding  so  desirable  a  tract  vacant,  had  at 
once  taken  possession ;  and  by  the  return  of 
the  regulator  had  almost  finished  a  neat  and 
"  roomy"  cabin.  He  had  "  blazed"  the  trees, 
too,  and  "staked  off"  the  prairie  —  taking  all 
those  steps  then  deemed  necessary,  on  the  fron 
tier,  to  complete  appropriation. 

Elwood's  first  step  was  to  order  him  peremp 
torily,  to  desist,  and  give  up  his  "improve 
ment" —  threatening  him,  at  the  same  time, 


226  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

with  certain  and  uncertain  pains  and  penalties, 
if  he  refused  to  obey.  But  Grayson  only  laugh 
ed  at  his  threats,  and  went  stoutly  on  witli  his 
work.  When  the  young  men,  whom  he  had 
hired  to  assist  him  in  building  his  house,  gave 
him  a  friendly  warning,  that  Elwood  was  the 
leader  of  a  band  of  regulators,  and  had  power 
to  make  good  his  menaces,  he  only  replied  that 
"  he  knew  how  to  protect  himself,  and,  when 
the  time  came,  should  not  be  found  wanting?" 
Elwood  retired  from  the  contest,  discomfited, 
but  breathing  vengeance ;  while  Grayson  fin 
ished  his  house  and  commenced  operations  on 
his  farm.  But  those  who  knew  the  headlong 
violence  of  Elwood's  character,  predicted  that 
these  operations  would  soon  be  interrupted; 
and  they  were  filled  with  wonder,  when  month 
after  month  passed  away,  and  there  were  still 
no  signs  of  a  collision. 

In  the  meantime,  it  came  to  be  rumored  in 
the  settlement,  that  there  was  some  secret  con 
nection  between  Grayson  and  Elwood's  daugh 
ter,  Hannah.  They  bad  been  seen  by  several 
persons  in  close  conversation,  at  times  and 
places  which  indicated  a  desire  for  conceal 
ment  ;  and  one  person  even  went  so  far  as  to  say, 
that  he  had  been  observed  to  kiss  her,  on  part- 


THE   REGULATOR.  227 

ing,  late  in  the  evening.  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  truth  in  that  matter,  it  is,  at  all  events, 
certain,  that  Gray  son  was  an  unmarried  man ; 
and  that  the  quarrel  between  the  parents  of  the 
pair  in  Kentucky,  had  broken  up  an  intimacy, 
which  bade  fair  to  issue  in  a  marriage ;  and  it 
is  probable,  that  a  subordinate  if  not  a  primary, 
motive,  inducing  him  to  take  possession  of  the 
disputed  land,  was  a  desire  to  be  near  Hannah. 
~Nor  was  this  wish  without  its  appropriate  justi 
fication  ;  for,  though  not  strictly  beautiful, 
Hannah  was  quite  pretty,  and  —  what  is  better 
in  a  frontier  girl  —  active,  fresh,  and  rosy.  At 
the  time  of  Gray  son's  arrival  in  the  settlement, 
she  was  a  few  months  past  eighteen  ;  and  was 
as  fine  material  for  a  border  wife,  as  could  be 
found  in  the  new  state.  The  former  intimacy 
was  soon  renewed,  and  before  the  end  of  two 
months,  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  be 
married,  as  soon  as  her  father's  consent  could 
be  obtained. 

But  this  was  not  so  easily  compassed ;  for, 
all  this  time,  Elvvood  had  been  brooding  over 
his  defeat,  and  devising  ways  and  means  of 
recovering  the  much-coveted  land. 

At  length,  after  many  consultations  with  a 
fellow  named  Driscol,  who  acted  as  his  lieuten 
ant  in  the  regulator  company,  he  acceded  to  a 


228  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

proposition,  made  ]ong  before  by  that  worthy, 
but  rejected  by  El  wood  on  account  of  its  dis 
honesty.  He  only  adopted  the  plan,  now,  be 
cause  it  was  apparently  the  only  escape  from 
permanent  defeat ;  and  long  chafing  under 
what  he  considered  a  grievous  wrong,  had 
made  him  reckless  of  means,  and  determined 
on  success,  at  whatever  cost. 

One  morning,  about  a  week  after  the  taking 
of  this  resolution,  it  was  announced  that  one  of 
Elwood's  horses  had  been  stolen,  on  the  night 
before ;  and  the  regulators  were  straightway 
assembled,  to  ferret  out  and  punish  so  daring 
an  offender.  It  happened  (accidently,  of 
course)  to  be  a  horse  which  had  cast  one  of  its 
shoes,  only  the  day  before ;  and  this  circum 
stance  rendered  it  easy  to  discover  his  trail. 
Driscol,  Elwood's  invaluable  lieutenant,  dis 
covered  the  track  and  set  off  upon  it,  almost  as 
easily  as  if  he  had  been  present  when  it  was 
made.  He  led  the  party  away  into  the  prairie 
toward  the  east ;  and  though  his  companions 
declared  that  they  could  now  see  nothing  of 
the  trail,  the  sharp-sighted  lieutenant  swore 
that  it  was  "as  plain  as  the  nose  on  his  face" 
—  truly,  a  somewhat  exaggerated  expression: 
for  the  color,  if  not  the  size,  of  that  feature  in 


THE   EEGULATOK.  229 

his  countenance,  made  it  altogether  too  appa 
rent  to  be  overlooked !  They  followed  him, 
however,  convinced  by  the  earnestness  of  his 
asseverations,  if  not  by  their  own  eyes,  until, 
after  going  a  mile  toward  the  east,  he  began 
gradually  to  verge  southward,  and,  having 
wound  about  at  random  for  some  time,  finally 
took  a  direct  course,  for  the  point  of  timber  on 
which  Grayson  lived ! 

On  arriving  at  the  point,  which  terminated, 
as  usual,  in  a  dense  hazel-thicket,  Driscol  at 
once  pushed  his  way  into  the  covert,  and  lo ! 
there  stood  the  stolen  horse !  He  was  tied  to  a 
sapling  by  a  halter,  which  was  clearly  recognised 
as  the  property  of  Grayson,  and  leading  off 
toward  the  latter's  house,  was  traced  a  man's 
footstep  —  his,  of  course  !  These  appearances 
fully  explained  the  theft,  and  there  was  not  a 
man  present,  who  did  not  express  a  decided 
conviction  that  Grayson  was  the  thief. 

Some  one  remarked  that  his  boldness  was 
greater  than  his  shrewdness,  else  he  would  not 
have  kept  the  horse  so  near.  But  Driscol  de 
clared,  dogmatically,  that  this  was  "the  smartest 
thing  in  the  whole  business,"  since,  if  the  trail 
could  be  obliterated,  no  one  would  think  of 
looking  there  for  a  horse  stolen  only  a  mile 
above !  "  The  calculation"  was  a  good  one,  be 


230  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

said,  and  it  only  failed  of  success  because  he* 
Driscol,  happened  to  have  a  remarkably  sharp 
sight  for  all  tracks,  both  of  horses  and  men.  To 
this  proposition,  supported  by  ocular  evidence, 
the  regulators  assented,  and  Driscol  stock,  pre 
viously  somewhat  depressed  by  sundry  good 
causes,  forthwith  rose  in  the  regulator  market  to 
a  respectable  premium ! 

Having  recovered  the  stolen  property,  the 
next  question  which  presented  itself  for  their 
consideration,  was  in  what  way  they  should 
punish  the  thief.  To  such  men  as  they,  this 
was  not  a  difficult  problem :  without  much  de 
liberation,  it  was  determined  that  he  must  be  at 
once  driven  from  the  country.  The  "  days  of 
grace,"  usually  given  on  such  occasions,  were 
ten,  and  in  pursuance  of  this  custom,  it  was 
resolved  that  Gray  son  should  be  mercifully 
allowed  that  length  of  time,  in  which  to  arrange 

c5  '  O 

his  affairs  and  set  out  for  a  new  home :  or,  as 
the  regulators  expressed  it,  "  make  himself 
scarce."  Driscol,  having  already,  by  his  praise 
worthy  efforts  in  the  cause  of  right,  made  him 
self  the  hero  of  the  affair,  was  invested  with 
authority  to  notify  Gray  son  of  this  decree.  The 
matter  being  thus  settled,  the  corps  adjourned 
to  meet  again  ten  days  thereafter,  in  order  to  see 
that  their  judgment  was  duly  carried  into  effect. 


THE   EEGULATOK.  231 

Meantime,  Driscol,  the  official  mouthpiece 
of  the  self-constituted  court  of  general  jurisdic 
tion,  rode  away  to  discharge  himself  of  his 
onerous  duties.  Halting  at  the  low  fence  which 
enclosed  the  scanty  door-yard  he  gave  the  cus 
tomary  "Halloo!  the  house!"  and  patiently 
awaited  an  answer.  It  was  not  long,  however, 
before  Grayson  issued  from  the  door  and  ad 
vanced  to  the  fence,  when  Driscol  served  the 
process  of  the  court  in  hcec  verla :  — 

"  Mr.  Grayson,  the  regulators  of  this  settle 
ment  have  directed  me  to  give  you  ten  days' 
notice  to  leave  the  country.  They  will  meet 
again  one  week  from  next  Friday,  and  if  you 
are  not  gone  by  that  time,  it  will  become  their 
duty  to  punish  you  in  the  customary  way." 

"  What  for  ?"  asked  Grayson,  quietly. 

"  For  stealing  this  horse,"  the  functionary 
replied,  laying  his  hand  on  the  horse's  mane, 
"  and  concealing  him  in  the  timber  with  the  in 
tention  to  run  him  off." 

"  It's  Ehvood's  horse,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Driscol,  somewhat  surprised 
at  Grayson's  coolness. 

"  When  was  he  stolen  ?"  asked  the  notified. 

"  Last  night,"  answered  the  official ;  "  I  sup 
pose  you  know  very  well  without  being  told." 

"Do  you,  indeed?"   said    Grayson,  smiling 


232  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

absently.  And  then  lie  bent  his  eyes  upon  the 
ground,  and  seemed  lost  in  thought  for  some 
minutes. 

"  "Well,  well,"  said  he  at  length,  raising  his 
eyes  again.  "  I  didn't  steal  the  horse,  Driscol, 
but  I  suppose  you  regulators  know  best  who 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  remain  in  the  settlement, 
so  of  course  I  shall  have  to  obey." 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  you  so  reasonable,"  said 
Driscol,  making  a  movement  to  ride  away. 

"  Stop  !  stop  !"  said  Grayson  :  "  do  n't  be  in  a 
hurry !  I  shall  be  gone  before  the  ten  days  are 
up,  and  you  and  I  may  not  meet  again  for  a 
long  time,  so  get  down  and  come  in  :  let  us  take 
a  parting  drink  together.  I  have  some  excellent 
whiskey,  just  brought  home." 

Now,  the  worthy  functionary,  as  we  have  in 
timated,  or  as  the  aforesaid  nose  bore  witness, 
was  "  quite  partial"  to  this  description  of  prod 
uce  :  some  of  his  acquaintances  even  insinuating 
that  he  took  sometimes  "  a  drop  too  much  ;"  and 
though  he  felt  some  misgiving  about  remaining 
in  Grayson's  company  longer  than  his  official 
duties  required,  the  temptation  was  too  strong 
for  him,  and,  silencing  his  fears,  he  sprang  to 
the  ground. 

"Tie  your  horse  to  the  fence,  there,"  said 
Grayson,  "and  come  in."  Driscol  obeyed,  and 


THE  REGULATOR. 

it  was  not  long  before  lie  was  seated  in  the 
cabin  with  a  tin-cup  in  his  hand,  and  its  gener 
ous  contents  finding  their  way  rapidly  down  his 
capacious  throat. 

"  Whiskey  is  a  pleasant  drink,  after  all,  isn't 
it?"  said  Grayson,  smiling  at  the  gusto  with 
which  Driscol  dwelt  upon  the  draught,  and  at 
the  same  moment  he  rose  to  set  his  cup  on  the 
table  behind  the  official. 

"  Very  pleasant  indeed,"  said  Driscol,  in 
reply,  and  to  prove  his  sincerity,  he  raised  his 
cup  again  to  his  lips.  But  this  time  he  was  not 
destined  to  taste  its  contents.  It  was  suddenly 
dashed  from  his  hand  —  a  saddle-girth  was 
thrown  over  his  arms  and  body  —  and  before  he 
was  aware  of  what  was  being  done,  he  found 
himself  securely  pinioned  to  the  chair !  A  rope 
was  speedily  passed  round  his  legs,  and  tied,  in 
like  manner,  behind,  so  that  he  could,  literally, 
move  neither  hand  nor  foot !  He  made  a  furious 
effort  to  break  away,  but  he  would  not  have 
been  more  secure  had  he  been  in  the  old- 
fashioned  stocks !  He  was  fairly  entrapped,  and 
though  he  foamed,  and  swore,  and  threatened, 
it  all  did  no  manner  of  good.  Of  this  he  at 
length  became  sensible,  and  grinding  his  teeth 
in  impotent  rage,  he  relapsed  into  dogged  silence. 

Having    thoroughly   secured    his    prisoner, 


234:  WESTEEN    CHAEACTEES. 

Grayson,  who  was  something  of  a  wag,  poured 
out  a  small  quantity  of  the  seductive  liquor,  and 
coming  round  in  front  of  the  ill-used  official, 
smiled  graciously  in  his  face,  and  drank  "  a 
health"  - 

"  Success  to  you,  Mr.  Driscol,"  said  he,  "  and 
long  may  you  continue  an  ornament  to  the  dis 
tinguished  company  of  which  you  are  an  honored 
officer !" 

Driscol  ground  his  teeth,  but  made  no  reply, 
and  the  toast  was  drunk,  like  some  of  those  im 
pressive  sentiments  given  at  public  dinners,  "  in 
profound  silence !" 

Having  drained  the  cup,  Grayson  deposited 
it  upon  the  table  and  himself  in  a  chair ;  and, 
drawing  the  latter  up  toward  his  companion, 
opened  the  conference  thus  :  — 

"  I  think  I  have  you  pretty  safe,  Driscol :  eh  !" 

The  lieutenant  made  no  reply. 

"  I  see  you  are  not  in  a  very  sociable  humor," 
continued  Grayson  ;  "  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  am  not  much  that  way  inclined  myself:  but  I 
am  determined  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  this 
affair  before  you  shall  leave  the  house.  I  am 
sure  you  know  all  about  it;  and  if  you  don't, 
why  the  worse  for  you,  that's  all." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  demanded  Driscol, 
speaking  for  the  first  time. 


THE    EEGULATOR.  235 

"  I  mean  this,"  Gray  son  answered  sternly : 
"I  did  not  take  that  horse  from  Elwood's — but 
you  did  :  I  saw  you  do  it.  But  since  my  testi 
mony  will  not  be  received,  I  am  determined  that 
you  shall  give  me  a  certificate  in  writing  that 
such  is  the  fact.  You  needn't  look  so  obstinate, 
for  by  the  God  that  made  us  both  !  you  shall  not 
leave  that  chair  alive,  unless  you  do  as  I  say !" 

Gray  son  was  a  large,  rather  fleshy  man,  with 
a  light  complexion  and  blue  eyes ;  and,  though 
good-natured  and  hard  to  arouse,  when  once  in 
earnest,  as  now,  like  all  men  of  his  stamp,  he 
both  looked,  and  was,  fully  capable  of  carrying 
his  menaces  into  execution.  The  imprisoned 
functionary  did  not  at  all  like  the  expression  of 
his  eye,  he  quailed  before  it  in  fear  and  shame. 
He  was,  however,  resolved  not  to  yield,  except 
upon  the  greatest  extremity. 

"  Come,"  said  Gray  son,  producing  materials 
for  writing;  "here  are  pen,  ink,  and  paper: 
are  you  willing  to  write  as  I  dictate  ?" 

"  !No,"  said  Driscol,  doggedly. 

"We'll  see  if  I  can't  make  you  willing, 
then,"  muttered  his  captor ;  and,  going  to  the 
other  end  of  the  cabin,  lie  took  down  a  coil  of 
rope,  which  hung  upon  a  peg,  and  returned  to 
his  captive.  Forming  a  noose  at  one  end,  he 
placed  it  about  Driscol's  neck,  and  threw  the 


236  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

other  end  over  a  beam  which,  supported  the 
roof. 

"Are  you  going  to  murder  me?"  demanded 
the  official  in  alarm. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Grayson,  drawing  the  loose 
end  down,  and  tightening  the  noose  about  Dris- 
coFs  throat. 

"  You'll  suffer  for  this,"  said  the  lieutenant 
furiously. 

"That  won't  help  you  much,"  coolly  replied 
Grayson,  tugging  at  the  rope,  until  one  leg  of 
the  chair  gave  signs  of  rising  from  the  floor, 
and  Driscnl't,  face  exhibited  unmistakable  symp 
toms  of  incipient  strangulation. 

"  Stop  !  stop  !"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  re 
duced  to  a  mere  wheeze  —  and  Grayson  "  eased 
off'"  to  hear  him. 

"  Won't  anything  else  satisfy  you  but  a  writ 
ten  certificate?"  he  asked  —  speaking  with  dif 
ficulty,  and  making  motions  as  if  endeavoring 
to  swallow  something  too  large  to  pass  the  gate 
of  his  throat. 

"Nothing  but  that,"  answered  Grayson,  de 
cidedly  ;  "  and  if  you  don't  give  it  to  me,  when 
your  regulator  friends  arrive,  instead  of  me, 
they  will  find  you,  swinging  from  this  beam  by 
the  neck !"  And,  seeing  his  victim  hesitate,  he 
again  tugged  at  the  rope,  until  the  same  -signs 


THE   EEGULATOR.  237 

were  exhibited  as  before  —  only  a  little  more 
apparently. 

"Ho  —  hold,  Grayson!"  begged  the  fright 
ened  and  strangling  lieutenant ;  and,  as  his  ex 
ecutioner  again  relaxed  a  little,  he  continued  : 
"  Just  let  me  up,  and  I'll  do  anything  you 
want." 

"  That  is  to  say,"  laughed  Grayson,  "  you 
would  rather  take  the  chances  of  a  fight,  than 
be  hung  up  like  a  sheep-stealing  dog !  Let  you 
up,  indeed  !"  And  once  more  he  dragged  the 
rope  down  more  vigorously  than  ever. 

"I  —  didn't  —  mean  that  —  indeed!"  gulped 
the  unhappy  official,  this  time  almost  strangled 
in  earnest. 

"What  did  you  mean  then?"  sternly  de 
manded  Grayson,  relaxing  a  little  once  again. 

"I  will  write  the  certificate,"  moaned  the 
unfortunate  lieutenant,  "  if  you  will  let  one  arm 
loose,  and  won't  tell  anybody  until  the  ten  days 
are  out  — 

"  Why  do  you  wish  it  kept  secret !" 

"  If  I  give  such  a  certificate  as  you  demand," 
mournfully  answered  the  disconsolate  officer, 
"I  shall  have  to  leave  the  country  —  and  I 
want  time  to  get  away." 

"  Oh  !  that's  it,  is  it?     Well—  very  well." 

About  an  hour  after  this,  Driscol  issued  from 


238  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

the  house,  and,  springing  upon  the  horse,  rode 
away  at  a  gallop  toward  Elwood's.  Here  he 
left  the  animal,  but  declined  to  enter ;  telling 
Hannah,  who  happened  to  be  in  the  yard,  to 
say  to  her  father  that  "it  was  all  right,"  he 
pushed  on  toward  home  —  tenderly  rubbing 
his  throat,  first  with  the  right  hand  and  then 
with  the  left,  all  the  way.  Three  days  after 
ward,  he  disappeared  from  the  settlement,  and 
was  heard  of  no  more. 

Grayson  waited  until  near  nightfall,  and 
then  took  his  way,  as  usual,  to  a  little  clump 
of  trees,  that  stood  near  Elwood's  enclosures, 
to  meet  Hannah.  Here  he  stayed  more  than 
an  hour,  detailing  the  circumstances  of.  the  ac 
cusation  against  him,  and  laughing  with  her, 
over  the  ridiculous  figure  cut  by  her  father's 
respectable  lieutenant.  Before  they  parted 
their  plans  were  all  arranged,  and  Grayson  went 
home  in  excellent  humor.  What  these  plans 
were,  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

Eight  days  went  by  without  any  event  im 
portant  to  our  story  —  Hannah  and  Graysoa 
meeting  each  evening,  in  the  grove,  and  parting 
again  undiscovered.  On  the  ninth  day,  the 
former  went  to  the  house  of  a  neighbor,  where 
it  was  understood  that  she  was  to  remain  dur- 


THE   REGULATOR.  239 

ing  the  night,  and  return  home  on  the  follow 
ing  morning.  Grayson  remained  on  his  farm 
until  near  sunset,  when  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  away.  This  was  the  last  of  his  "  days 
of  grace ;"  and  those  who  saw  him  passing 
along  the  road,  concluded  that  he  had  yielded 
to  the  dictates  of  prudence,  and  was  leaving 
the  field. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  regulators  as 
sembled  to  see  that  their  orders  had  been 
obeyed ;  and,  though  Elwood  was  a  little  dis 
concerted  by  the  absence  of  Driscol,  since  it 
was  understood  that  Grayson  had  left  the 
country,  the  meeting  was  considered  only  a 
formal  one,  and  the  presence  of  the  worthy  lieu 
tenant  was  not  indispensable.  They  proceeded 
in  high  spirits  to  the  premise's,  expecting  to 
find  the  house  deserted  and  waiting  for  an  oc 
cupant.  Elwood  was  to  take  immediate  pos 
session,  and,  all  the  way  across  the  prairie,  was 
felicitating  himself  upon  the  ease  and  rapidity 
of  his  triumph.  What  was  their  surprise,  then, 
on  approaching  the  house,  to  see  smoke  issuing 
from  the  chimney,  as  usual  —  the  door  thrown 
wide  open,  and  Grayson  standing  quietly  in 
front  of  it !  The  party  halted  and  a  council 
was  called,  but  its  deliberations  were  by  no 
means  tedious :  it  was  forthwith  determined, 


24:0  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

that  Gray  son  stood  in  defiance  of  the  law,  and 
must  be  punished  —  that  is,  "lynched" — with 
out  delay  !  The  object  of  this  fierce  decree,  all 
unarmed  as  he  was,  still  stood  near  the  door, 
while  the  company  slowly  approached  the  fence. 
He  then  advanced  and  addressed  them : — 

"  I  think  the  ten  days  are  not  up  yet,  gen 
tlemen,"  said  he  mildly. 

"  Yes,  they  are,"  answered  Elwood  quickly  ; 
"  and  we  are  here  to  know  whether  you  intend 
to  obey  the  authorities,  and  leave  the  country  ?" 

"  I  think,  Elwood,"  said  the  young  man,  not 
directly  replying,  "  this  matter  can  be  settled 
between  you  me,  without  bloodshed,  and  even 
without  trouble.  If  you  will  come  in  with 
George  and  John  [his  sons],  I  will  introduce 
you  to  my  wife,  and  we  can  talk  it  over,  with 
a  glass  of  whiskey." 

Another  consultation  ensued,  when,  in  order 
to  prove  their  dignified  moderation,  they  agreed 
that  Elwood  and  his  sons  should  "go  in  and  see 
what  he  had  to  say." 

Elwood,  the  elder,  entered  first :  directly  be 
fore  him,  holding  her  sides  and  shaking  with 
laughter,  stood  his  rosy  daughter,  Hannah ! 

"  My  wife,  gentlemen,"  said  Grayson,  grave 
ly  introducing  them.  Hannah's  laughter  ex 
ploded. 


THE    REGULATOR.  24:1 

"  O,  father,  father,  father !"  she  exclaimeh, 
leaning  forward  and  extending  her  hands ; 
"a'n't  you  caught,  beautifully!" 

The  laugh  was  contagious ;  and  though  the 
elder  knit  his  brows,  and  was  evidently  on  the 
point  of  bursting  with  very  different  emotions, 
his  sons  yielded  to  its  influence,  and,  joining 
Hannah  and  her  husband,  laughed  loudly,  peal 
after  peal ! 

The  father  could  bear  it  no  longer  — he  seized 
Hannah  by  the  arm  and  shook  her  violently,  till 
she  restrained  herself  sufficiently  to  speak;  as 
for  him,  he  was  speechless  with  rage. 

"  It's  entirely  too  late  to  make  a ( fuss,'  father," 
she  said  at  length  '•'  for  here  is  the  marriage- 
certificate,  and  Grayson  is  your  son !" 

"  I  have  not  stolen  your  horse,  Elwood,"  said 
the  bridegroom,  taking  the  paper  which  the 
father  rejected,  "  though  I  have  run  away  with 
your  daughter.  And,"  he  added,  significantly, 
"  since  if  you  had  this  land,  you  would  probably 
give  it  to  Hannah,  I  think  you  and  I  had  better 
be  friends,  and  I'll  take  it  as  her  marriage- 
portion." 

"  If  you  can  show  that  you  did  not  take  the 
horse,  Grayson,"  said  George,  the  elder  of  the 
two  sons,  "  I'll  answer  for  that :  but " 

"  That  I  can  do  very  easily,"  interrupted  the 
11 


242  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

young    husband,    "I   have   the    proof  in   my 
pocket." 

He  caught  Elwood's  eye  as  he  spoke,  and  re 
assured  him  with  a  look,  for  he  could  see  that 
the  old  man  began  to  apprehend  an  exposure  in 
the  presence  of  his  sons.  This  forbearance  did 
more  to  reconcile  him  to  his  discomfiture  than 
aught  else,  save  the  influence  of  George  ;  for, 
like  all  passionate  men,  he  was  easily  swayed 
by  his  cooler  children.  While  Hannah  and  her 
brothers  examined  the  marriage  certificate,  and 
laughed  over  "  the  stratagem,"  Grayson  drew 
Elwood  aside  and  exhibited  a  paper,  written  in 
a  cramped,  uneven  hand,  as  follows  :  — 

"  This  is  to  certify,  that  it  was  not  Josiah 
Grayson  who  took  .Robert  Elwood's  horse  from 
his  stable,  last  night — but  I  took  him  myself, 
by  arrangement,  so  as  to  accuse  Grayson  of  the 
theft,  and  drive  him  to  leave  his  new  farm. 

"  THOMAS  DRISCOL." 

Elwood  blushed  as  he  came  to  the  words  "  by 
arrangement,"  but  read  on  without  speaking. 
Grayson  then  related  the  manner  in  which  he 
had  entrapped  the  lieutenant,  and  the  joke  soon 
put  him  in  a  good  humor.  The  regulators  were 
called  in,  and  heard  the  explanation,  and  all 
laughing  heartily  over  the  capture  of  Driscol, 
they  insisted  that  Hannah  and  her  husband 


TIIE    KKGULATOK.  24:3 

should  mount,  and  ride  with  them  to  Elwood's. 
Neither  of  them  needed  much  persuasion — _the 
whole  party  rode  away  together  —  the  "lads 
and  lasses"  of  the  neighborhood  were  sum 
moned,  and  the  day  and  night  were  spent  in 
merriment  and  dancing. 

Grayson  and  his  wife  returned  on  the  follow 
ing  morning  to  their  new  honje,  where  a  life  of 
steady  and  honorable  industry,  was  rewarded 
with  affluence  and  content.  Their  descendants 
still  live  upon  the  place,  one  of  the  most  beau 
tiful  and  extensive  farms  upon  that  fertile 
prairie.  But  on  the  spot  where  the  disputed 
cabin  stood,  has  since  been  built  a  handsome 
brick-house,  and  I  pay  only  a  just  tribute  to 
amiable  character,  when  I  say  that  a  more  hos 
pitable  mansion  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  western 
country. 

This  was  the  last  attempt  at  "  regulating"  in 
that  region,  for  emigration  came  in  so  rapidly, 
that  the  supremacy  of  the  law  was  soon  asserted 
and  maintained.  Whenever  this  came  to  be  so, 
the  regulators,  of  course,  ceased  to  be  types  of 
the  state  of  society,  and  were  succeeded  by 
other  characters  and  institutions. 

To  these  we  must  now  proceed. 


244:  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

[NOTE. — The  following  is  a  copy  of  a  compact,  such  as  is 
spoken  of  in  the  story  of  the  "  The  First  Grave,"  entered  into 
by  a  company  of  regulators  in  somewhat  similar  circumstances. 
I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  vouch  for  its  authenticity,  but  all  who 
are  familiar  with  the  history  of  those  times,  will  recognise,  in 
its  peculiarities,  the  characteristics  of  the  people  who  then  in 
habited  this  country.  The  affectation  of  legal  form  in  such  a 
document  as  this,  would  be  rather  amusing,  were  it  not  quite 
too  significant;  at  all  events,  it  is  entirely  "in  keeping"  with 
the  constitution  of  a  race  who  had  some  regard  for  law  and  its 
vindication,  even  in  th«r  most  high-handed  acts.  The  technical 
phraseology,  used  so  strangely,  is  easily  traceable  to  the  little 
"Justice's  Form  Book,"  which  was  then  almost  the  only  law 
document  in  the  country;  and  though  the  words  are  rather 
awkwardly  combined,  they  no  doubt  gave  solemnity  to  the  act 
in  the  eyes  of  its  sturdy  signers :  — 

"  Know  all  men  by  these  presents  : 

"That  we  [here  follow  twelve  names],  citizens  of 

settlement,  in  the  state  of  Illinois,  have  this  day,  jointly  and 
severally,  bound  ourselves  together  as  a  company  of  Rangers 
and  Regulators,  to  protect  this  settlement  against  the  crimes 
and  misdemeanors  of,  all  and  singular,  every  person  or  persons 
whomsoever,  and  especially  against  all  horse-thieves,  renegades, 
and  robbers.  And  we  do  by  these  presents,  hereby  bind  our 
selves,  jointly  and  severally  as  aforesaid,  unto  each  other,  and 
to  the  fellow-citizens  of  this  settlement,  to  punish,  according  to 
the  code  of  his  honor,  Judge  Lynch,  all  violations  of  the  law, 

against  the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  said  people  of  

settlement ;  and  to  discover  and  bring  to  speedy  punishment, 
•all  illegal  combinations  —  to  rid  the  country  of  such  as  are 
dangerous  to  the  welfare  of  this  settlement  —  to  preserve  the 
peace,  and  generally  to  vindicate  the  law,  within  the  settlement 
aforesaid.  All  of  which  purposes  we  are  to  accomplish  as 


THE   KEGULATOK.  245 

peaceably  as  possible :  but  we  are  to  accomplish  them  one  way 
or  another. 

"  In  testimony  whereof,  we  have  hereunto  set  our  hands  and 
affixed  our  seals,  this  twelfth  day  of  October,  Anno  Domini, 
eighteen  hundred  and  twenty. 

(Signed  by  twelve  men.) 
"  Acknowledged  and  subscribed  in  the  presence  of 

"C T.  H n, 

"J—       -  P.  D :n," 

and  five  others,  who  seem  to  have  been  a  portion  of  "  the  fellow- 
citizens  of  this  settlement,"  referred  to  in  the  document] 


VI. 

THE  JUSTICE  OF  THE  PEACE. 

"  I  beseech  you, 

Wrest  once  the  law  to  your  authority : 
To  do  a  great  right,  do  a  little  wrong." — 

MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 

THE  reign  of  violence,  when  an  evil  at  all,  is 
an  evil  which  remedies  itself:  the  seventy  of 
its  proceeding  hastens  the  accomplishment 
of  its  ends,  as  the  hottest  fire  soonest  consumes 
its  fuel.  A  nation  will  endure  oppression  more 
patiently  immediately  after  a  spasmodic  re 
bellion  or  a  bloody  revolution,  than  at  any  other 
time ;  and  a  community  requires  less  law  to 
govern  it,  after  a  violent  and  illegal  assertion  of 
the  law's  supremacy,  than  was  necessary  before 
the  outbreak.  After  having  thrown  off  the 
yoke  of  a  knave  —  and  perhaps  hung  the  knave 
up  by  the  neck,  or  chopped  his  head  off  with 
an  axe  —  mankind  not  unfrequently  fall  under 
the  control  of  a  fool ;  frightened  at  their  temerity 
in  dethroning  an  idol  of  metal,  they  bow  down 
before  a  paltry  statue  of  wood. 


THE   JUSTICE    OF   THE    PEACE.  247 

Men  are  not  easily  satiated  with  power,  but 
when  it  is  irregular,  a  pause  in  its  exercise  must 
eventually  come.  And  there  is  a  principle  of 
human  nature,  which  teaches,  that  whatsoever 
partakes  of  the  mob-spirit  is,  at  best,  but  tem 
porary,  and  ought  to  have  a  speedy  end.  This 
is  especially  true  of  such  men  as  first  perma 
nently  peopled  the  western  country ;  for  though 
they  sometimes  committed  high-handed  and 
unjustifiable  acts,  the  moment  it  was  discovered 
that  they  had  accomplished  the  purposes  of 
order,  they  allowed  the  means  of  vindication  to 
fall  into  disuse.  The  regulator  system,  for  ex 
ample,  was  directed  to  the  stern  and  thorough 
punishment  of  evil  men,  but  no  sooner  was 
society  freed  from  their  depreciations,  than  the 
well-meaning  citizens  withdrew  from  its  ranks  ; 
and,  though  regulator  companies  still  patroled 
the  country,  and,  for  a  time,  assumed  as  much 
authority  as  ever,  they  were  not  supported  by 
the  solid  approbation  of  those  who  alone  could 
give  them  lasting  strength.  They  did  many 
outrageous  things  for  which  they  were  never 
punished,  and  for  some  years,  the  shield  which 
the  good  citizen  had  raised  above  his  head  for 
protection  and  defence,  threatened  to  fall  upon 
and  crush  him.  But  the  western  people  are  not 
"he  first  who  have  been  temporarily  enslaved 


248  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

by  their  liberators,  though,  unlike  many  another 
race,  they  waited  patiently  for  the  changes  of 
years,  and  time  brought  them  a  remedy. 

As  the  government  waxed  stronger,  and 
public  opinion  assumed  a  direction,  the  regula 
tors,  like  their  predecessors,  the  rangers,  found 
their  "occupation  gone,"  and  gradually  faded 
out  from  the  land.  Proclamations  were  issued 
— legislatures  met  —  laws  were  enacted,  and 
officers  appointed  to  execute  them  ;  and  though 
forcing  a  legal  system  upon  a  people  who  had 
so  long  been  "  a  law  unto  themselves,"  was  a 
slow  and  difficult  process,  it  was  powerfully 
assisted  by  the  very  disorders  consequent  upon 
their  attempts  at  self-government.  They  had 
burnt  their  hands  by  seizing  the  hot  iron-rod  of 
irregular  authority,  and  were,  therefore,  better 
inclined  to  surrender  the  baton  to  those  who 
could  handle  it.  Like  Frankenstein,  they  had 
created  a  power  which  they  could  not  imme 
diately  control :  the  regulators,  from  being  their 
servants,  had  come  to  be  their  masters  :  and 
they  willingly  admitted  any  authority  which 
promised  deliverance.  They  had  risen  in  wrath, 
and  chastised,  with  no  hesitating  hand,  the 
violators  of  their*  peace  ;  but  the  reaction  had 
taken  place,  and  they  were  now  content  to  be 


THE   JUSTICE    OF   THE   PEACE.  249 

governed  by  whatsoever  ruler  Providence  might 
send  them. 

The  state  governments  were  established,  then, 
without  difficulty,  and  the  officers  of  the  new 
law  pervaded  every  settlement.  The  character 
which  I  have  selected  as  the  best  representative 
of  this  period,  is  one  of  these  new  officers — 
the  early  justice  of  the  peace. 

So  far  as  history  or  tradition  informs  us,  there 
was  never  yet  a  country  in  which  appointments 
to  office  were  invariably  made  with  reference 
only  to  qualification,  and  though  the  west  is  an 
exception  to  more  than  one  general  rule,  in  this 
respect  we  must  set  it  down  in  the  common  cate 
gory.  The  lawyer-period  had  not  yet  arrived  ; 
and,  probably,  there  was  never  an  equal  number 
of  people  in  any  civilized  country,  of  whom  a 
larger  proportion  were  totally  ignorant  of  legal 
forms.  There  were  not  three  in  each  hundred 
who  had  ever  seen  the  inside  of  a  courthouse, 
and  they  were  quite  as  few  who  had  once  looked 
upon  a  law-book  !  Where  such  was  the  case, 
some  principle  of  appointment  was  of  course 
necessary,  other  than  that  which  required  fitness, 
by  training,  for  the  office  conferred ;  and  it  is 
probable  that  the  rule  adopted  was  but  little 
different  to  that  in  force  among  those  who  have 
11* 


250  WESTERN   CIIAEACTEKS. 

the  appointing  power,  where  no  such  circum 
stances  restrict  the  choice. 

Men  were  appointed  conservators  of  the 
peace,  because  they  had  distinguished  them 
selves  in  war ;  and  he  who  had  assumed  the 
powers  of  the  law,  as  a  regulator,  was  thought 
the  better  qualified  to  exercise  them,  as  a  legal 
officer!  Courage  and  capacity,  as  an  Indian- 
fighter,  gave  one  the  prominence  requisite  to 
his  appointment ;  and  zeal  for  the  preserva 
tion  of  order,  exhibited  as  a  self-co-nstituted 
judge  and  executioner,  was  a  guaranty  for 
the  faithful  performance  of  new  and  regular 
duties. 

Nor  was  the  rule  a  bad  one.  A  justice  of 
the  peace  chosen  upon  this  principle,  possessed 
two  qualities  indispensable  to  an  efficient  offi 
cer,  in  the  times  of  which  we  write — he  was 
prompt  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  and  was 
not  afraid  of  responsibility.  To  obviate  the 
danger,  however,  which  might  arise  from  these, 
he  had  also  a  rigid  sense  of  justice,  which  usu 
ally  guided  his  determinations  according  to  the 
rights  of  parties  in  interest.  This,  the  lawyers 
will  say,  was  a  very  questionable  trait  for  a 
judicial  officer ;  and  perhaps  it  is  better  for 
society,  that  a  judge  should  know  the  law,  and 


THE   JUSTICE   OF   THE   PEACE.  251 

administer  it  without  reference  to  abstract  jus 
tice,  than  that  his  own  notions  of  right  and 
wrong  should  be  taken,  however  conscientious 
ly,  as  the  standard  of  judgment:  for  in  that 
case,  we  shall,  at  least,  have  uniformity  of  ad 
judication  ;  whereas,  nothing  is  more  uncertain, 
than  a  man's  convictions  of  rifflit. 

O 

But,  in  the  times  of  which  we  are  writing, 
society  was  not  yet  definitely  shaped  —  its  ele 
ments  were  not  bound  together  by  the  cohesive 
power  of  any  legal  cement  —  and  no  better 
rule  was,  therefore,  to  be  expected,  than  the 
spontaneous  suggestions  of  common  sense.  The 
minds  of  men  were,  moreover,  habituated  to  a 
certain  course  of  thought  and  action  —  (such  as 
naturally  obtains  in  a  new  state  of  society, 
where  the  absence  of  organization  remits  them 
to  their  own  exertions  for  safety)  —  and  it  was, 
therefore,  impossible  that  any  artificial  system 
should  be  at  once  adopted.  The  people  had 
been  accustomed  to  such  primitive  associations, 
as  they  had  entered  i^fo  "  for  the  common  de 
fence  and  general  welfare"  of  their  infant  com 
munities  ;  the  rule  of  action  had  been  swift,  and 
sometimes  very  informal  punishment,  for  every 
transgression  ;  and  this  rule,  having  very  well 
answered  its  purpose,  though  at  the  expense 
of  occasional  severity  and  injustice,  they  could 


252  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

not  immediately  understand  the  necessity  for 
any  other  course  of  proceeding. 

One  of  the  characteristics  of  the  early  jus 
tice,  then,  was  a  supreme  contempt  for  all  mere 
form.  He  called  it  "  nonsense"  and  could  never 
comprehend  its  utility.  To  him,  all  ceremony 
was  affectation,  and  the  refinements  of  legal 
proceeding  were,  in  his  estimation,  anti-repub 
lican  innovations  upon  the  original  simplicity 
of  mankind.  Technicalities  he  considered  mere 
ly  the  complicated  inventions  of  lawyers,  to 
exhibit  their  perverse  ingenuity  —  traps  to 
catch  the  well-meaning  or  unwary,  or  avenues 
of  escape  for  the  guilty.  The  rules  of  evidence 
lie  neither  understood  nor  cared  for ;  he  desired 
"  to  hear  all  about"  every  cause  brought  before 
him  ;  and  the  idea  of  excluding  testimony,  in 
obedience  to  any  rule,  he  would  never  enter 
tain.  He  acted  upon  the  principle  —  though 
he  probably  never  heard  of  the  maxim  —  that 
"  the  law  furnishes  a  remedy  for  every  wrong ;" 
and,  if  he  knew  of  none  in  positive  enactment, 
he  would  provide  one,  from  the  arsenal  of  his 
own  sense  of  right.  He  never  permitted  any 
thing  to  obstruct  the  punishment  of  one  whom 
he  had  adjudged  guilty  ;  and,  rather  than  allow 
a  culprit  to  escape,  he  would  order  his  judg- 


THE  JUSTICE  OF  THE  PEACE.       253 

ment  to  be  carried  at  once  into  effect,  in 
the  presence,  and  under  the  direction  of  the 
court. 

He  had  a  strong  prejudice  against  every  man 
accused  of  crime ;  and  sometimes  almost  re 
versed  the  ancient  presumption  of  the  law,  and 
held  the  prisoner  guilty,  until  he  proved  him 
self  innocent.  He  had  unbounded  confidence 
in  the  honesty  of  his  neighbors  and  friends,  and 
was  unwilling  to  believe,  that  they  would  ac 
cuse  a  man  of  crime  or  misdemeanor,  without 
very  good  cause.  When  it  was  proven  that  a 
crime  had  been  committed,  he  considered  the 
guilt  of  the  prisoner  already  half  established  : 
it  was,  in  his  judgment,  what  one,  better  ac 
quainted  with  legal  terms,  might  have  called 
"  a prima  facia  case,"  devolving  the  onus pro- 
landi  (or  burthen  of  proof)  upon  the  accused. 
And  this  may  have  been  one  cause  of  the  fre 
quent  resort  to  alibis  —  a  mode  of  defence 
which,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  is  even 
yet  in  great  disrepute.  If  a  defence,  of  some 
sort,  was  not,  then,  very  clearly  and  satisfac 
torily  made  out,  the  justice  had  no  hesitation 
in  entering  judgment,  and  ordering  immediate 
punishment ;  for  the  right  of  appeal  was  not 
generally  recognised,  and  the  justice  took  origi 
nal  and  final  jurisdiction,  where  now  his  duties 


254  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

are  merely  those  of  preliminary  examination 
and  commitment. 

In  civil  controversies  —  where  such  causes 
were  presented  for  adjudication,  which,  how 
ever,,  was  not  very  often  —  the  order  of  pro 
ceeding  was  quite  as  summary.  The  justice 
heard  the  statements  of  the  parties,  and  some 
times,  not  always,  would  listen  to  witnesses, 
also ;  then,  taking  the  general  "  rights,  inter 
ests,  claims,  and  demands,"  of  both  sides  into 
consideration — and  viewing  himself,  not  as  a 
judicial  officer,  but  as  a  sort  of  referee  or  arbi 
trator —  he  would  strike  a  balance  between  the 
disputants,  and  dismiss  them  to  their  homes, 
with  a  significant  admonition  to  "  keep  the 
peace."  He  usually  acted  upon  the  principle 
—  no  very  erronous  one,  either  —  that,  when 
two  respectable  men  resort  to  the  law,  as  arbi- 
trater  of  their  controversies,  they  are  both  about 
equally  blameable ;  and  his  judgments  were 
accordingly  based  upon  the  corollary,  that 
neither  deserved  to  have  alj  he  claimed.  This 
was  the  practice  when  any  decision  was  made 
at  all;  but,  in  most  cases,  the  justice  acted  as 
a  pacificator,  and,  by  his  authority  and  persua 
sion,  induced  the  parties  to  agree  upon  a  com 
promise.  For  this  purpose,  he  not  unfrequent- 


THE   JUSTICE   OF   THE   PEACE.  255« 

ly  remitted  both  fees  and  costs  —  those  due  to 
the  constables,  as  well  as  his  own. 

An  instance  of  this  pacific  practice  has  been 
related  to  me  as  follows :  Two  neighbors  had 
quarrelled  about  a  small  amount  of  debt,  and, 
after  sundry  attempts  to  "  settle,"  finally  went 
to  law.  The  justice  took  them  aside,  on  the  day 
of  trial,  and  proposed  a  basis  of  settlement,  to 
which  they  agreed,  on  condition,  that  all  costs 
should  be  remitted,  and  to  this  the  magistrate 
at  once  pledged  himself.  But  a  difficulty  arose  : 
the  constable,  who  had  not  been  consulted  in 
the  arrangement,  had  had  a  long  ride  after  the 
defendant,  and  having  an  unquestionable  right 
to  demand  his  fees,  was  unwilling  to  give  them 
up.  The  justice  endeavored  to  prevail  with  him 
by  persuasion,  but  in  vain.  Finally,  growing 
impatient  of  his  obstinacy,  he  gave  him  a 
peremptory  order  to  consent,  and,  on  his  refusal, 
fined'  him  the  exact  amount  of  his  fees  for  con 
tempt,  entered  up  judgment  on  the  basis  of  the 
compromise,  and  adjourned  the  court! 

The  man  who  thus  discourages  litigation  at 
the  expense  of  his  own  official  emoluments,  may 
be  forgiven  a  few  irregularities  of  proceeding, 
in  consideration  of  the  good  he  effects ;  for 
although  under  such  a  system  it  was  seldom 
that  either  party  obtained  his  full  and  just 


256  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

rights,  both  were  always  benefited  by  the  spirit 
of  peace  infused  into  the  community.  It 
would,  perhaps,  be  well  for  the  country  now, 
were  our  legal  officers  actuated  by  the  same 
motives;  unfortunately,  however,  such  men 
belong  only  to  primitive  times. 

But  the  love  of  peace  was  not  accompanied, 
in  this  character,  as  it  usually  is,  by  merciful 
judgment,  for,  as  he  was  very  swift  in  deter 
mining  a  prisoners  guilt,  he  was  equally  rigid 
in  imposing  the  penalty.  The  enactments  of 
the  criminal  code  were  generally  so  worded  as 
to  give  some  scope  for  the  exercise  of  a  com 
passionate  and  enlightened  discretion  ;  but  when 
the  decision  lay  in  the  breast  of  our  justice,  if 
he  adjudged  any  punishment  at  all,  it  was 
usually  the  severest  provided  for  by  the  statute. 
Half-measures  were  not  adapted  to  the  temper 
of  the  times  or  the  character  of  the  people  ; 
indeed,  they  are  suited  to  no  people,  and  are 
signal  failures  at  all  times,  in  all  circumstances. 
Inflicting  light  punishments  is  like  firing  blank 
cartridges  at  a  mob,  they  only  irritate,  without 
subduing;  and  as  the  latter  course  usually  ends 
in  unnecessary  bloodshed,  the  former  invariably 
increases  the  amount  of  crime. 

Certainty  of  punishment  may  be  —  unques- 


THE    JUSTICE    OF    THE    PEACE.  257 

tionably  is  —  a  very  important  element  in  the 
administration  of  justice,  but  as  nothing  so 
strongly  disinclines  a  man  to  entering  the  water 
as  the  sight  of  another  drowning,  so  nothing 
will  so  effectually  deter  him  from  the  commis 
sion  of  crime,  as  the  knowledge  that  another 
has  been  severely  punished  for  yielding  to  the 
Bame  temptation.  The  justice,  however,  based 
the  rigor  of  his  judgments  upon  no  such  argu 
ment  of  policy.  His  austerity  was  a  part  of 
his  character,  and  had  been  rendered  more 
severe  by  the  circumstances  in  which  he  had 
lived  —  the  audacity  of  law-breakers,  and  the 
necessity  for  harsh  penalties,  in  order  to  pro 
tection. 

It  will  be  observed  that  I  say  nothing  of 
juries,  and  speak  of  justices  of  the  peace,  as 
officers  having  authority  to  decide  causes  alone. 
And,  it  must  be  recollected,  that  in  the  days  of 
which  I  am  writing,  resort  was  very  seldom  had 
to  this  cumbersome  and  uncertain  mode  of  ad 
judication.  In  civil  causes,  juries  were  seldom 
empanelled,  because  they  were  attended  by  very 
considerable  expense  and  delay.  The  chief  ob 
ject,  in  going  to  law,  moreover,  was,  in  most 
cases,  to  have  a  decision  of  the  matter  in  dis 
pute  ;  and  juries  were  as  prone  to  "  hang"  then 


258  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

as  now.  Suitors  generally,  therefore,  would 
rather  submit  to  the  arbitration  of  the  justice, 
than  take  the  risk  of  delay  and  uncertainty, 
with  a  jury.  In  criminal  causes,  the  case  was 
very  similar :  the  accused  would  as  lief  be 
judged  by  one  prejudiced  man  as  by  twelve; 
for  the  same  rigorous  spirit  which  actuated  the 
justice,  per\raded  also  the  juries  ;  and  (besides 
the  chance  of  timidity  or  favor  in  the  justice) 
in  the  latter  he  must  take  the  additional  risks 
of  personal  enmity  and  relationship  to  the  party 
injured.  Thus,  juries  were  often  discarded  in 
criminal  causes  also,  and  we  think  their  disuse 
was  no  great  sacrifice.  Such  a  system  can 
derive  its  utility,  in  this  country,  only  from  an 
enlightened  public  sentiment :  if  that  sentiment 
be  capricious  and  oppressive,  as  it  too  often  is, 
juries  are  quite  as  likely  to  partake  its  vices  as 
legal  officers :  if  the  sentiment  be  just  and 
healthy,  no  judicial  officer  dare  be  guilty  of 
oppression.  So  that  our  fathers  lost  nothing  in 
seldom  resorting  to  this  "palladium  of  our 
liberties,"  and,  without  doubt,  gained  some 
thing  by  avoiding  delay,  uncertainty,  and  ex 
pense. 

The   reader   will    also    observe,    that   I   say 
^nothing  of  higher  courts.     But  the  lines  be 
tween  the  upper  and  lower  tribunals  were  not 


THE   JUSTICE    OF   THE   PEACE.  259 

so  strictly  drawn  then  as  they  now  are,  and  the 
limits  of  jurisdiction  were,  consequently,  very 
indefinite.  Most  of  the  characteristics,  more 
over,  here  ascribed  to  the  justice  of  the  peace, 
belonged,  in  almost  an  equal  degree,  to  the 
judges  of  the  circuit  courts;  and,  though  some 
of  the  latter  were  men  of  respectable  legal  re 
quirements,  the  same  off-hand  mode  of  ad 
ministering  the  law  which  distinguished  the 
inferior  magistrates,  marked  the  proceedings  of 
their  courts  also.  Both  occasionally  assumed 
powers  which  they  did  not  legally  possess ;  both 
were  guided  more  by  their,  own  notions  of  jus 
tice,  than  by  the  rules  of  law ;  and  both  were 
remarkable  for  their  severity  upon  all  trans 
gressors.  Neither  cared  much  for  the  rules  of 
evidence,  each  was  equal  to  any  emergency  or 
responsibility,  and  both  had  very  exalted  ideas 
of  their  own  authority. 

But  the  functions  of  the  justice  were,  in  his 
estimation,  especially  important  —  his  dignity 
was  very  considerable  also,  and  his  powers  any 
thing  but  circumscribed.  A  few  well-authenti 
cated  anecdotes,  however,  will  illustrate  the 
character  better  than  any  elaborate  portraiture. 
And,  for  fear  those  I  am  about  to  relate  may 
seem  exceptions,  not  fairly  representing  the 
class,  I  should  state,  in  the  outset,  that  I  have 


260  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

selected  them  from  a  great  number  which  I  can 
recall,  particularly  because  they  are  not  excep 
tive,  and  give  a  very  jnst  impression  of  the 
character  which  I  am  endeavoring  to  portray. 

'Squire   A- was  a  plain,  honest  farmer, 

who  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  pioneer  and 
ranger,  and  was  remarkable  as  a  man  of  un 
doubted  courage,  but  singularly  peaceable  tem 
per.  In  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  twenty, 
he  received  from  Governor  Bond  of  Illinois,  a 
commission  as  justice  of  the  peace,  and  though 
he  was  not  very  clear  what  his  duties,  dignifies, 
and  responsibilities,  precisely  were,  like  a  patriot 
and  a  Roman, he  determined  to  discharge  them 
to  the  letter.  At  the  period  of  his  appointment, 
he  was  at  feud  with  one  of  his  neighbors  about 
that  most  fruitful  of  all  subjects  of  quarrel,  a 
division-fence  ;  and  as  such  differences  always 
are,  the  dispute  had  been  waxing  warmer  for 
several  months.  He  received  his  docket,  blanks, 
and  "  Form-Book,"  on  Saturday  evening,  and 
though  he  had  as  yet  no  suits  to  enter  and  no 
process  to  issue,  was  thus  provided  with  all  the 
weapons  of  justice.  On  the  following  Monday 
morning,  he  repaired,  as  usual,  to  his  fields, 
about  half-a-mile  from  home,  and  though  full 
of  his  new  dignity,  went  quietly  to  work. 


THE  JUSTICE  OF  THE  PEACE.       261 

He  had  not  been  there  long,  before  his  old 
and  only  enemy  made  his  appearance,  and 
opened  upon  him  a  volley  of  abuse  in  relation 
to  the  division-fence,  bestowing  upon  his  honor, 
among  other  expressive  titles,  the  euphonious 

epithet  of  "jackass."     A bore  the  attack 

until  it  came  to  this  point  —  which,  it  would 
seem,  was  as  far  as  a  man's  patience  ought  to 
extend  —  and,  it  is  probable,  that  had  he  not 
been  a  legal  functionary,  a  battle  would  have 
ensued  "  then  and  there."  But  it  WMS  beneath 
the  dignity  thus  outraged,  to  avenge  itself  by  a 

vulgar  fisticuff,  and  A bethought  him  of  a 

much  better  and  more  honorable  course.  He 
threw  his  coat  across  his  arm,  and  marched 
home.  There  he  took  down  his  new  docket, 
and  upon  the  first  page,  recorded  the  case  of 
the  "  People  of  the  State  of  Illinois  vs.  John 
Braxton"  (his  enemy).  He  then  entered  up  the 
following  judgment:  "  The  defendant  in  this 
case,  this  day,  fined  ten  dollars  and  costs,  for 
CONTEMPT  OF  COURT,  Ji e  having  called  us  a  jack 
ass  /"  On  the  opposite  page  is  an  entry  of 
satisfaction,  by  whi^h  it  appears  that  he  forth 
with  issued  an  execution  upon  the  judgment, 
and  collected  the  money  ! 

This   pretext  of   "  contempt"  was  much  in 
vogue,  as  a  means  of  reaching  offences  not  ex- 


262  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

pressly  provided  for  by  statute  ;  but  the  justice 
was  never  at  a  loss  for  expedients,  even  in  cases 
entirely  without  precedent,  as  the  following 
anecdote  will  illustrate  :  — 

A  certain  justice,  in  the  same  state  of  Illinois, 
was  one  day  trying,  for  an  aggravated  assault,  a 
man  who  was  too  much  intoxicated  fully  to 
realize  the  import  of  the  proceedings  or  the 
dignity  of  the  court.  He  was  continually  in 
terrupting  witnesses,  contradicting  their  testi 
mony,  and  swearing  at  the  justice.  It  soon 
became  evident  that  he  must  be  silenced  or  the 
trial  adjourned.  The  j  ustice's  patience  at  length 
gave  way.  He  ordered  the  constable  to  take 
the  obstreperous  culprit  to  a  creek,  which  ran 
near  the  office,  "  and  duck  him  until  he  was 
sober  enough  to  be  quiet  and  respect  the  court !" 
This  operation  the  constable  alone  could  not 
perform,  but  in  due  time  he  brought  the  de 
fendant  back  dripping  from  the  creek  and 
thoroughly  sobered,  reporting,  at  the  same  time, 
that  he  had  availed  himself  of  the  assistance 

of  two  men,  Messrs.  B and  L ,  in  the 

execution  of  his  honor's  commands.  The  trial 
then  went  quietly  on,  the  defendant  was  fined 
for  a  breach  of  the  peace,  and  ordered  to  pay 
the  costs:  one  item  of  which  was  two  dollars 


THE   JUSTICE   OF   THE   PEACE.  263 

to  Messrs.  B —    -  and  L "for  assisting  the 

constable  in  ducking  the  prisoner !"  But,  as 
the  justice  could  find  no  form  nor  precedent  for 
hydropathic  services,  he  entered  the  charge  as 
"  witness  fees"  and  required  immediate  pay 
ment  !  The  shivering  culprit,  glad  to  escape  on 
any  terms,  paid  the  bill  and  vanished ! 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  prevailing 
opinion,  as  to  the  legality  of  such  a  proceeding, 
the  ridicule  attaching  to  it  would  effectually 
have  prevented  any  remedy — most  men  being 
willing  to  forgive  a  little  irregularity,  for  the 
sake  of  substantial  justice  and  "  a  good  joke." 
But  the  summary  course,  adopted  by  these 
magistrates,  sometimes  worked  even  greater 
injustice  —  as  might  have  been  expected ;  and 
of  this,  the  following  is  an  example: — 

About  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  twen 
ty-six,  there  lived,  in  a  certain  part  of  the  west, 
a  man  named  Smedley,  who,  so  far  as  the  col 
lection  of  debts  was  concerned,  was  entirely 
"  law-proof."  He  seemed  to  have  a  constitu 
tional  indisposition  to  paying  anything  he 
owed :  and,  though  there  were  sundry  execu 
tions  in  the  hands  of  officers  against  him  — 
and  though  he  even  seemed  thrifty  enough  in 
his  pecuniary  affairs  —  no  property  could  ever 


264:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

be  found,  upon  which  they  could  be  levied. 
There  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  constable  in  the 
neighborhood,  a  man  named  White,  who  was 
celebrated,  in  those  days  of  difficult  collections, 
for  the  shrewdness  and  success  of  his  official 
exploits  ;  and  the  justice  upon  whom  he  usually 
attended,  was  equally  remarkable,  for  the  high 
hand  with  which  he  carried  his  authority.  But, 
though  two  executions  were  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  former,  upon  judgments  on  the 
docket  of  the  latter,  months  passed  away,  with 
out  anything  being  realized  from  the  impervi 
ous  defendant,  Smedley. 

Whenever  the  constable  found  him  in  pos 
session  of  property,  and  made  a  levy,  it  was 
proven  to  belong  to  some  one  else ;  and  the 
only  result  of  his  indefatigable  efforts,  was  the 
additions  of  heavy  costs  to  the  already  hopeless 
demand. 

At  length,  however,  White  learned  that  Smed 
ley  had  traded  horses  with  a  man  named  Wyatt, 
and  he  straightway  posted  off  to  consult  the 
magistrate.  Between  them,  the  plan  of  opera 
tions  was  agreed  upon.  White  levied  first 
upon  the  horse  then  in  the  possession  of  Smed 
ley,  taking  him  under  one  of  the  two  writs :  he 
then  levied  the  other  execution  upon  the  horse 
which  Smedley  had  traded  to  Wyatt.  The  lat- 


THE  JUSTICE   OF   THE   PEACE.  265 

ter,  apprehending  the  loss  of  his  property, 
claimed  the  first  horse  —  that  which  he  had 
traded  to  Smedley.  But,  upon  the  "  trial  of  the 
right  of  property,"  the  justice  decided  that  the 
horse  was  found  in  the  possession  of  Smedley, 
and  was,  therefore,  subject  to  levy  and  sale. 
He  was  accordingly  sold,  and  the  first  judg 
ment  was  satisfied.  "Wyatt  then  claimed  the 
second  horse  —  that  which  he  had  received 
from  Smedley.  But,  upon  a  similar  "  trial"  — 
after  severely  reprimanding  Wyatt  for  claiming 
l)oth  horses,  when,  on  his  own  showing,  he 
never  owned  but  one  — the  justice  decided 
that  the  property  in  dispute  had  been  in  the 
possession  of  Smedley  at  the  rendition  of  the 
judgment,  and  was  therefore,  like  the  other, 
subject  to  a  lien,  and  equally  liable  to  levy  and 
sale !  And  accordingly,  this  horse,  also,  was 
sold,  to  satisfy  the  second  execution,  and  Wyatt 
was  dismissed  by  the  justice,  with  no  gentle 
admonition,  "  to  be  careful  in  future  with  whom 
he  swapped  horses !"  A  piece  of  advice  which 
he  probably  took,  and  for  which  he  ought  to 
have  been  duly  grateful!  Fallen  humanity, 
however,  is  very  perverse;  and  it  is  at  least 
supposable,  that,  having  lost  his  horse,  he  con 
sidered  himself  hardly  used  —  an  opinion  in 
which  my  legal  readers  will  probably  concur. 
12 


266  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

[Before  leaving  tins  part  of  my  subject,  I  will 
relate  another  anecdote,  which,  though  it  refers 
more  particularly  to  constables,  serves  to  illus 
trate  the  characteristics  of  the  early  officers  of 
the  law' — justices,  as  well  as  others: — 

The  constable  who  figured  so  advantageously 
in  the  anecdote  last  related,  had  an  execution 
against  a  man  named  Corson,  who  was  almost 
as  nearly  "law  proof"  as  Smedley.  He  had 
been  a  long  time  endeavoring  to  realize  some 
thing,  but  without  success.  At  length,  he  was 
informed,  that  Corson  had  sued  another  man, 
upon  an  account,  before  a  justice  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  same  county.  This,  the  delinquent 
officer  at  once  saw,  gave  him  a  chance  to  secure 
something;  and,  on  the  day  of  trial,  away  he 
posted  to  the  justice's  office.  Here,  he  quietly 
seated  himself,  and  watched  the  course  of  the 
proceeding.  The  trial  went  on,  and,  in  due 
time,  the  justice  decided  the  cause  in  favor  of 
Corson.  At  this  juncture,  "White  arose,  and, 
while  the  justice  was  entering  up  judgment, 
approached  the  table.  When  the  docket  was 
about  to  be  laid  aside,  he  interposed  : — 

"Stop  !"  said  he,  placing  his  hand  upon  the 
docket,  " I  levels  on  this  judgment!"  And, 
giving  no  attention  to  remonstrances,  he  de 
manded  and  obtained  the  execution.  On  this 


THE   JUSTICE   OF    THE   PEACE.  267 

lie  collected  the  money,  and  at  once  applied  it 
to  that,  which  he  had  been  so  long  carrying — 
thus  settling  two  controversies,  by  diligence 
and  force  of  will.  He  was  certainly  a  valuable 
officer ! 

• 
Thus  irregular  and  informal  were  many  of 

the  proceedings  of  the  primitive  legal  function 
aries  ;  but  a  liberal  view  of  their  characters 
must  bring  us  to  the  conclusion,  that  their  in 
fluence  upon  the  progress  of  civilization  of  the 
country,  was,  on  the  whole,  decidedly  benefi 
cial. 


VII. 

THE  PEDDLEE. 


"This  is  a  traveller,  sir;  knows  men  and 
Manners." —  BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHEB. 


PREVIOUS  to  the  organization  of  civil  govern 
ment,  and  "  the  form  and  pressure"  given  to  the 
times  by  this  and  its  attendant  circumstances, 
the  primitive  tastes  and  habits  of  the  western 
people,  excluded  many  of  those  artificial  wants 
which  are  gratified  by  commerce,  and  afforded 
no  room  for  traders,  excepting  those  who  sold 
the  absolute  necessaries  of  life. 

In  those  days,  housekeeping  was  a  very  sim 
ple  matter.  Neither  steam-engines  nor  patent 
cook-stoves  were  yet  known,  as  necessary  ad 
juncts  to  a  kitchen  ;  the  housewife  would  have 
"  turned  up  her  nose"  in  contempt  of  a  bake- 
oven :  would  have  thrown  a  "  Yankee  reflector" 
over  the  fence,  and  branded  the  innovator  with 
the  old-fashioned  gridiron.  Tin  was  then  sup 
posed  to  be  made  only  for  cups  and  coffee-pots : 


THE   PEDDLEE.  269 

pie-pans  had  not  yet  even  entered  "the  land  of 
dreams ;"  and  the  tea-kettle,  which  then  "  sang 
songs  of  family  glee,"  was  a  quaint,  squat 
figure,  resembling  nothing  so  much  as  an  over 
fed  duck,  and  poured  forth  its  music  from  a 
crooked,  quizzical  spout,  with  a  notch  in  its  iron 
nozzle.  If  its  shut-iron  lid  was  ornamented 
with  a  brass  button,  fora  handle,  it  was  thought 
to  be  manufactured  in  superior  style  ?  Iron 
spoons  were  good  enough  for  the  daintiest 
mouth ;  and  a  full  set  of  pewter  was  a  house 
hold  treasure.  China  dishes  and  silver  plate 
had  been  heard  of,  but  belonged  to  the  same 
class  of  marvellous  things,  with  Aladdin's  lamp 
and  Fortunatus's  purse.  Cooking  was  not  yet 
reduced  to  a  science,  and  eating  was  like  sleep 
— a  necessity,  not  a  mere  amusement.  The 
only  luxuries  known,  were  coffee  and  sugar; 
and  these,  with  domestics  and  other  cotton 
fabrics,  were  the  chief  articles  for  which  the 
products  of  the  earth  were  bartered. 

French  cloths  and  Parisian  fashions  were 
still  less  known  than  silver  spoons  and  "  rotary 
stoves."  The  men  wore  homemade  jeans,  cut 
after  the  mode  of  the  forest :  its  dye  a  favorite 
"  Tennessean"  brownish-yellow ;  and  the  women 
were  not  ashamed  to  be  seen  in  linsey-wolsey, 
woven  in  the  same  domestic  loom.  Knitting 


270  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

was  then  not  only  an  accomplishment,  but  a 
useful  art ;  and  the  size  which  a  "  yarn"  stock 
ing  gave  to  a  pretty  ankle,  was  not  suffered  to 
overbalance  the  consideration  of  its  comfort. 
The  verge  of  nakedness  was  not  then  the  region 
of  modesty :  the  neck  and  its  adjacent  parts 
were  covered  in  preference  to  the  hands ;  and, 
in  their  barbarous  ignorance,  the  women  thought 
it  more  shame  to  appear  in  public  half-dressed, 
than  to  wear  a  comfortable  shoe. 

They  were  certainly  a  very  primitive  people  — 
unrefined,  unfashionable,  "coarse" — and  many 
of  their  sons  and  daughters  are  even  now 
ashamed  to  think  what  "  savages"  their  parents 
were !  In  their  mode  of  life,  they  sought  com 
fort,  not  "  appearances ;"  and  many  things  which 
their  more  sophisticated  descendants  deem 
necessaries,  they  contemned  as  luxuries. 

But,  in  the  course  of  time,  these  things  began 
to  change,  for  simplicity  is  always  "  primitive," 
and  the  progress  of  refinement  is  only  the  mul 
tiplication  of  wants.  As  the  country  was  re 
duced  to  cultivation,  and  peace  settled  upon  its 
borders,  new  classes  of  emigrants  began  to  take 
possession  of  the  soil ;  and,  for  the  immediate 
purposes  of  rapid  advancement,  and  especially 
»f  social  improvement,  they  were  better  classes 


THE   PEDDLEK.  271 

than  their  predecessors :  for,  as  the  original 
pioneers  had  always  lived  a  little  beyond  the 
influences  of  regular  civilization,  these  had  re 
mained  within  its  limits  until  the  pressure  of 
legal  organization  began  to  grow  irksome  to 
their  partially  untamed  spirits.  There  was,  in 
deed,  an  unbroken  gradation  of  character,  from 
the  nearly  savage  hunter,  who  visited  the 
country  only  because  it  was  uninhabited,  except 
by  wild  beasts,  to  the  genuine  citizen,  who 
brought  with  him  order,  and  industry,  and  legal 
supremacy. 

The  emigrants,  of  whom  we  are  now  writing, 
constituted  the  third  step  in  this  progression ; 
and  they  imported  along  with  them,  or  drew 
after  them,  the  peculiarities  belonging  to  their 
own  degree  of  advancement.  Their  notions  of 
comfort  and  modes  of  living,  though  still  quite 
crude,  indicated  an  appreciable  stage  of  refine 
ment.  They  were  better  supplied,  for  example, 
with  cooking  utensils  —  their  household  furni 
ture  was  not  so  primitive — and  in  wearing  ap 
parel,  they  manifested  some  regard  to  elegance 
as  well  as  comfort.  Social  intercourse  dissemi 
nated  these  ideas  among  those  to  whom  they 
were  novel ;  where,  previously,  the  highest 
motive  to  improvement  had  been  a  desire  for 
convenience,  the  idea  of  gentility  began  to 


272  WESTERN    CHAEACTEKS. 

claim  an  influence ;  and  some  of  the  more 
moderate  embellishments  of  life  assumed  the 
place  of  the  mere  necessaries. 

The  transition  was  not  rapid  nor  violent,  like 
all  permanent  changes,  it  was  the  work  of 
years,  marked  by  comparatively  slow  grada 
tions.  First,  tin-ware,  of  various  descriptions, 
became  necessary  to  the  operations  of  the 
kitchen ;  and  that  which  had  been  confined  to 
one  or  two  articles,  was  now  multiplied  into 
many  forms.  A  housewife  could  no  more  bake 
a  pie  without  a  "  scalloped"  pie-pan,  than  with 
out  a  fire  :  a  tin-bucket  was  much  more  easily 
handled  than  one  of  cedar  or  oak  ;  and  a  pepper 
box,  of  the  same  material,  was  as  indispensable 
as  a  salt-cellar.  A  little  tea  was  occasionally 
added  to  the  ancient  regimen  of  coffee,  and 
thus  a  tin-canister  became  necessary  for  the 
preservation  of  the  precious  drug.  With  tea 
came  queensware  :  and  half-a-dozen  cups  and 
saucers,  usually  of  a  dingy  white,  with  a  raised 
blue  edge,  were  needful  for  the  pranking  of  the 
little  cupboard. 

But  it  was  not  only  in  the  victualing  department 
that  the  progress  of  refinement  could  be  traced  ; 
for  the  thrifty  housewife,  who  thought  it  proper 
to  adorn  her  table,  and  equip  her  kitchen  with 


THE   PEDDLEK.  273 

all  the  late  improvements,  could  not,  of  course, 
entirely  overlook  "the  fashions  :"  the  decoration 
of  her  person  has  been,  in  all  ages,  the  just  and 
honest  pride  of  woman.  Linsey-wolsey  began 
to  give  place  to  calicoes  and  many-colored 
prints ;  calf-skin  shoes  were  antiquated  by  the 
use  of  kid  ;  and  ribands  fluttered  gracefully 
upon  new-fashioned  bonnets.  Progress  of  this 
kind  never  takes  a  step  backward :  once  pos 
sessed  of  an  improvement  in  personal  comfort, 
convenience,  or  adornment,  man  —  or  woman. 
—  seldom  gives  it  up.  Thus,  these  things,  once 
used,  thenceforth  became  wants,  whose  gratifi 
cation  was  not  to  be  foregone :  and  it  is  one  of 
the  principles  governing  commerce,  that  the 
demand  draws  to  it  the  supply. 

There  were  few  "  country  stores,"  in  those 
days,  and  the  settlements  were  so  scattered  as 
to  make  it  sometimes  very  inconvenient  to  visit 
them.  From  ten  to  twenty  miles  was  a  moder 
ate  distance  to  the  depot  of  supplies ;  and  a 
whole  day  was  usually  consumed  in  going  and 
returning.  The  visits  were,  therefore,  not  very 
frequent  —  the  purchases  for  many  weeks — • 
perhaps  months  —  being  made  on  each  occa 
sion.  This  was  a  very  inconvenient  mode  of 
"  shopping,"  even  for  the  energetic  women  of 
that  day ;  and,  since  the  population  would  not 
12* 


274:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

justify  more  numerous  "stores,"  it  was  desira 
ble  that  some  new  system  should  be  introduced, 
capable  of  supplying  the  demand  at  the  cost  of 
less  trouble,  and  fewer  miles  of  travel.  To 
answer  this  necessity  there  was  but  one  way  — 
the  "  storekeeper"  must  carry  his  wares  to  the 
doors  of  his  customers.  And  thus  arose  the 
occupation  of  the  Peddler,  or,  as  he  called 
himself,  the  "  travelling  merchant." 

The  population  of  the  country  was  then  al 
most  exclusively  agricultural  —  the  mechanic 
arts  belong  to  a  more  advanced  period.  The 
consequence  was,  that  the  first  articles  carried 
about  from  house  to  house,  were  such  as'are 
manufactured  by  artisans  —  and  the  chief  of 
these  was  tin-ware. 

The  tinkers  of  the  rural  districts  in  older 
countries,  were,  however,  not  known  in  this  — 
they  were  not  adapted  to  the  genius  of  the  peo 
ple.  The  men  who  sold  the  ware  were,  scarcely 
ever,  the  same  who  made  it ;  and,  though  the 
manual  dexterity  of  most  of  these  ready  men, 
might  enable  them  to  mend  a  broken  pan,  or  a 
leaky  coffeepot,  their  skill  was  seldom  put  in 
requisition.  Besides,  since  the  mending  of  an 
old  article  might  interfere  with  the  sale  of  a 
new  one,  inability  to  perform  the  office  was 
more  frequently  assumed  than  felt. 


THE    TEDDLER.  275 

In  the  course  of  time  —  as  the  people  of  the 
country  began  to  acquire  new  ideas,  and  dis 
cover  new  wants  —  other  articles  were  added 
to  the  peddler's  stock.  Calicoes  were  often  car 
ried  in  the  same  box  with  tin  pans  —  cotton 
checks  and  ginghams  were  stowed  away  be 
neath  tin-cups  and  iron-spoons  —  shining  coffee 
pots  were  crammed  with  spools  of  thread, 
papers  of  pins,  cards  of  horn-buttons,  and  cakes 
of  shaving-soap — and  bolts  of  gaudy  riband 
could  be  drawn  from  pepper-boxes  and  sausage- 
stuffers.  Table-cloths,  of  cotton  or  brown  linen, 
were  displayed  before  admiring  eyes,  which 
had  turned  away  from  all  the  brightness  of 
new  tin  plates ;  and  knives  and  forks,  all  "  war 
ranted  pure  steel,"  appealed  to  tastes,  which 
nothing  else  could  excite.  New  razors  touched 
the  men  "in  tender  places,"  while  shining 
scissors  clipped  the  purses  of  the  women.  Silk 
handkerchiefs  and  "  fancy"  neckcloths  —  things 
till  then  unknown  —  could  occupy  the  former, 
while  the  latter  covetously  turned  over  and  ex 
amined  bright  ribands  and  fresh  cotton  hose. 
The  peddler  was  a  master  of  the  art  of  pleasing 
all  tastes :  even  the  children  were  not  forgot 
ten  ;  for  there  were  whips  and  jew's-harps  for 
the  boys,  and  nice  check  aprons  for  the  girls. 
(The  taste  for  "  playing  mother"  was  as  much 


276  WESTEEtf    CIIAEACTEKS. 

an  instinct,  with,  the  female  children  of  that 
day,  as  it  is  in  times  more  modern ;  but  life 
was  yet  too  earnest  to  display  it  in  the  dressing 
and  nursing  of  waxen  babies.)  To  suit  the 
people  from  whom  the  peddler's  income  was  de 
rived,  he  must  consult  at  least  the  appearance 
of  utility,  in  every  article  he  offered ;  for, 
though  no  man  could  do  more,  to  coax  the 
money  out  of  one's  pocket,  without  leaving  an 
equivalent,  even  he  could  not  succeed  in  such 
an  enterprise,  against  the  matter-of-fact  pioneer. 

The  "  travelling  merchants"  of  this  country 
were  generally  what  their  customers  called 
"Yankees" — that  is,  New-Englanders,  or  de 
scendants  of  the  puritans,  whether  born  east 
of  the  Hudson  or  not.  And,  certainly,  no  class 
of  men  were  ever  better  fitted  for  an  occupa 
tion,  than  were  those  for  "peddling."  The 
majority  of  them  were  young  men,  too  ;  for  the 
"  Yankee"  who  lives  beyond  middle  age,  with 
out  providing  snug  quarters  for  the  decline  of 
life,  is  usually  not  even  fit  for  a  peddler.  But, 
though  often  not  advanced  in  years,  they  often 
exhibited  qualities,  which  one  would  have  ex 
pected  to  find  only  in  men  of  age  and  experi 
ence.  They  could  "  calculate,"  with  the  most 
absolute  certainty,  what  precise  stage  of  ad- 


THE   PEDDLER.  277 

vancement  and  cultivation,  was  necessary  to 
the  introduction  of  every  article  of  merchandise 
their  stock  comprised.  Up  to  a  certain  limit, 
they  offered,  for  example,  linen  table-cloths : 
beyond  that,  cotton  was  better  and  more  sale 
able  ;  in  certain  settlements,  they  could  sell 
numbers  of  the  finer  articles,  which,  in  others, 
hung  on  their  hands  like  lead ;  and  they  seemed 
to  know,  the  moment  they  breathed  the  air  of 
a  neighborhood,  what  precise  character  of  goods 
was  most  likely  to  pay." 

Thus — by  way  of  illustration  —  it  might 
seem,  to  one  not  experienced  in  reading  the 
signs  of  progress,  a  matter  of  nice  speculation 
and  subtle  inquiry,  to  determine  what  exact 
degree  of  cultivation  was  necessary,  to  make 
profitable  the  trade  in  clocks.  But  I  believe 
there  is  no  instance  of  an  unsuccessful  clock- 
peddler  on  record ;  and,  though  this  fact  may 
be  accounted  for,  superficially,  by  asserting 
that  time  is  alike  important  to  all  men,  and  a 
measure  of  its  course,  therefore,  always  a  want, 
a  little  reflection  will  convince  ns,  that  this  ex 
planation  is  more  plausible  than  sound. 

It  is,  perhaps,  beyond  the  capacity  of  any 
man,  to  judge  unerringly,  by  observation,  of 
the  usual  signs  of  progress,  the  exact  point  at 


278  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

which  a  community,  or  a  man,  has  arrived  in 
the  scale  of  cultivation ;  and  it  may  seem  es 
pecially  difficult,  to  determine  commercially, 
what  precise  articles,  of  use  or  ornament,  are 
adapted  to  the  state  indicated  by  those  signs. 
But  that  there  are  such  indications,  which,  if 
properly  attended  to,  will  be  unfailing  guides, 
is  not  to  be  denied.  Thus,  the  quick  observa 
tion  of  a  clock-peddler  would  detect  among  a 
community  of  primitive  habits,  the  growing 
tendency  to  regularity  of  life ;  for,  as  refine 
ment  advances,  the  common  affairs  of  every 
day  existence,  feeling  the  influence  first,  assume 
a  degree  of  order  and  arrangement ;  and  from 

O  O  J 

the  display  of  this  improvement,  the  trader 
might  draw  inferences  favorable  to  his  traffic. 
Eating,  for  example,  as  he  would  perceive,  is 
done  at  certain  hours  of  the  day  —  sleep  is 
taken  between  fixed  periods  of  the  night  and 
morning  —  especially,  public  worship  —  which 
is  one  of  the  best  and  surest  signs  of  social  ad 
vancement  —  must  be  held  at  a  time  generally 
understood. 

The  peddler  might  conclude,  also,  when  he 
saw  a  glazed  window  in  a  house,  that  the  owner 
was  already  possessed  of  a  clock' — which,  per 
haps,  needed  repairing  —  or,  at  least,  was  in 
great  need  of  one,  if  he  had  not  yet  made  the 


THE   PEDDLER.  279 

purchase.  One  of  these  shrewd  "  calculators" 
once  told  me,  that,  when  he  saw  a  man  with 
four  panes  of  glass  in  his  house,  and  no  clock, 
he  either  sold  hirn  one  straightway,  or  "  set 
him  down  crazy,  or  a  screw." 

"  Have  you  no  other  '  signs  of  promise"  ?  I 
asked. 

"  O  yes,"  he  replied,  "  many  !  For  instance : 
When  I  arn  riding  past  a  house  —  (I  always 
ride  slowly) — I  take  a  general  and  particular 
survey  of  the  premises  —  or,  as  the  military 
men  say,  I  make  a  reconnaissance  /  and  it  must 
be  a  very  bare  place,  indeed,  if  I  can  not  see 
Borne  '  sign,'  by  which  to  determine,  whether 
the  owner  needs  a  clock.  If  I  see  the  man, 
himself,  I  look  at  his  extremities;  and  by  the 
appearance  of  hat  and  boot,  I  make  up  my 
opinion  as  to  whether  he  knows  the  value  of 
time :  if  he  wears  anything  but  a  cap,  I  can 
pretty  fairly  calculate  upon  selling  him  a  clock ; 
and  if,  to  the  hat,  he  has  added  boots,  I  halt  at 
once,  and,  without  ceremony,  carry  a  good 
one  in. 

"  When  I  see  the  wife,  instead  of  the  hus 
band,  I  have  no  difficulty  in  making  up  my 
mind  —  though  the  signs  about  the  women  are 
so  numerous  and  minute,  that  it  would  be  hard 
to  explain  them.  If  one  wears  a  check-apron 


280  WESTERN 

arid  sports  a  calico  dress,  I  know  that  a  *  trav 
elling  merchant'  has  been  in  the  neighbor- 

O  o 

hood  ;  and  if  he  has  succeeded  in  making  a  rea 
sonable  number  o£  sales,  I  am  certain  that  he 
has  given  her  such  a  taste  for  buying,  that  I 
can  sell  her  anything  at  all :  for  purchasing 
cheap  goods,  to  a  woman,  is  like  sipping  good 
liquor,  to  a  man  —  she  soon  acquires  the  appe 
tite,  and  thenceforward  it  is  insatiable. 

"I  have  some  customers  who  have  a  passion 
for  clocks.  There  is  a  man  on  this  road,  who 
has  one  for  every  room  in  his  house ;  and  I 
have  another  with  rne  now  —  with  a  portrait  of 
General  Jackson  in  the  front  —  which  I  expect 
to  add  to  his  stock.  There  is  a  fanner  not  far 
from  here,  with  whom  I  have  '  traded'  clocks 
every  year  since  I  first  entered  the  neighbor 
hood —  always  receiving  about  half  the  value 
of  the  article  I  sell,  in  money,  'to  boot.' 
There  are  clock- fanciers,  as  well  as  fanciers  of 
dogs  and  birds ;  and  I  have  known  cases,  in 
which  a  man  would  have  two  or  three  time 
pieces  in  his  house,  and  not  a  pair  of  shoes  in 
the  family!  But  such  customers  are  rare  —  as 
they  ought  to  be ;  and  the  larger  part  of  our 
trade  is  carried  on,  with  people  who  begin  to 
feel  the  necessity  of  regularity  —  to  whom  the 
sun  has  ceased  to  be  a  sufficient  guide  —  and 


THE   PEDDLER.  281 

who  have  acquired  some  notions  of  elegance 
and  comfort.  And  we  seldom  encounter  the 
least  trouble  in  determining,  by  the  general  ap 
pearance  of  the  place,  whether  the  occupant  has 
arrived  at  that  stage  of  refinement." 

We  perceive  that  the  principal  study  of  the 
peddler  is  human  nature ;  and  though  he  clas 
sifies  the  principles  of  his  experience,  more 
especially  with  reference  to  the  profits  of  his 
trade,  his  rapid  observation  of  minor  traits  and 
indications,  is  a  talent  which  might  be  useful  in 
many  pursuits,  besides  clock-peddling.  And, 
accordingly,  we  discover  that,  even  after  he 
has  abandoned  the  occupation,  and  ceased  to  be 
a  bird  of  passage,  he  never  fails  to  turn  his 
learning  to  a  good  account. 

He  was  distinguished  by  energy  as  well  as 
shrewdness,  and  an  enterprising  spirit  was  the 
first  element  of  his  prosperity.  There  was  no 
corner — no  secluded  settlement  —  no  out-of-the 
way  place  —  where  he  was  not  seen.  Bad  roads 
never  deterred  him :  he  could  drive  his  horses  and 
wagon  where  a  four-wheeled  vehicle  never  went 
before.  He  understood  bearings  and  distances 
as  well  as  a  topographical  engineer,  and  would 
go,  whistling  contentedly,  across  a  prairie  or 


282  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

through  a  forest,  where  he  had  not  even  a 
"  trail"  to  guide  him.  He  could  n'nd  fords  and 
crossings  where  none  were  previously  known  to 
exist ;  and  his  pair  of  lean  horses,  by  the  skil 
ful  management  of  their  driver,  would  carry 
him  and  his  wares  across  sloughs  and  swamps, 
where  a  steam-engine  would  have  been  clogged 
by  the  weight  of  a  baby-wagon.  If  he  broke 
his  harness  or  his  vehicle  in  the  wilderness,  he 
could  repair  it  without  assistance,  for  his  me 
chanical  accomplishments  extended  from  the 
shoeing  of  a  horse  to  the  repair  of  a  watch,  and 
embraced  everything  between.  He  was  never 
taken  by  surprise  —  accidents  never  came  un 
expected,  and  strange  events  never  disconcerted 
him.  He  would  whistle  "  Yankee  Doodle" 
while  his  horses  were  floundering  in  a  quag 
mire,  and  sing  "  Hail  Columbia"  while  plunging 
into  an  unknown  river  ! 

He  never  met  a  stranger,  for  he  was  in 
timately  acquainted  with  a  man  as  soon  as  he 
saw  him.  Introductions  were  useless  ceremo 
nies  to  him,  for  he  cared  nothing  about  names. 
He  call  a  woman  "  ma'am"  and  a  man  "mister," 
and  if  he  could  sell  either  of  them  a  few 
goods,  he  never  troubled  himself  or  them  with 
impertinent  inquiries.  Sometimes  lie  had  a 
habit  of  learning  each  man's  name  from  his 


THE    PEDDLER.  283 

next  neighbor,  and  possessing  an  excellent 
memory,  lie  never  lost  the  information  thus 
acquired. 

When  he  had  passed  through  a  settlement 
once,  he  had  a  complete  knowledge  of  all  its 
circumstances,  history,  and  inhabitants  ;  and, 
the  next  year,  if  he  met  a  child  in  the  road,  he 
could  tell  you  whom  it  most  resembled,  and  to 
what  family  it  belonged.  He  recollected  all 
who  were  sick  on  his  last  visit — what  peculiar 
difficulties  each  was  laboring  under  —  and  was 
always  glad  to  hear  of  their  convalescence.  He 
gathered  medicinal  herbs  along  the  road,  and 
generously  presented  them  to  the  housewives 
where  he  halted,  and  he  understood  perfectly 
the  special  properties  of  each.  He  possessed  a 
great  store  of  good  advice,  suited  to  every 
occasion,  and  distributed  it  with  the  disinterested 
benevolence  of  a  philanthropist.  He  knew 
precisely  what  articles  of  merchandise  were 
adapted  to  the  taste  of  each  customer ;  and  the 
comprehensive  "  rule  of  three"  would  not  have 
enabled  him  to  calculate  more  nicely  the  exact 
amount  of  "  talk"  necessary  to  convince  them 
of  the  same. 

His  address  was  extremely  insinuating,  for  he 
always  endeavored  to  say  the  most  agreeable 
things,  and  no  man  could  judge  more  accurately 


284:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

what  would  best  please  the  person  addressed. 
He  might  be  vain  enough,  but  his  egotism  was 
never  obtruded  upon  others,  lie  might  secretly 
felicitate  himself  upon  a  successful  trade,  but 
he  never  boasted  of  it.  He  seemed  to  be  far 
more  interested  in  the  affairs  of  others  than  in 
his  own.  He  had  sympathy  for  the  afflictions 
of  his  customers,  counsel  for  their  difficulties, 
triumph  in  their  success. 

Before  the  introduction  of  mails,  he  was  the 
universal  news-carrier,  and  could  tell  all  about 
the  movements  of  the  whole  world.  He  could 
gossip  over  his  wares  with  his  female  customers, 
till  he  beguiled  them  into  endless  purchases,  for 
he  had  heard  of  every  death,  marriage,  and 
birth  within  fifty  miles.  He  recollected  the 
precise  piece  of  calico  from  which  Mrs.  Jones 
bought  her  last  new  dress,  and  the  identical 
bolt  of  riband  from  which  Mrs.  Smith  trimmed 
her  "  Sunday  bonnet."  He  knew  whose  children 
went  to  "  meeting"  in  "  store-shoes,"  whose 
daughter  was  beginning  to  wear  long  dresses, 
and  whose  wife  wore  cotton  hose.  He  could 
ring  the  changes  on  the  "latest  fashions"  as 
glibly  as  the  skilfulest  modiste.  He  was  a 
connoisseur  in  colors,  and  learned  in  their 
effects  upon  complexion.  He  could  laugh  the 


THE   PEDDLER.  285 

husband  into  half-a-dozen  shirts,  flatter  the  wife 
into  calico  and  gingham,  and  praise  the  children 
till  both  parents  joined  in  dressing  them  anew 
from  top  to  toe. 

He  always  sold  his  goods  "  at  a  ruinous 
sacrifice,"  but  he  seemed  to  have  a  depot  of 
infinite  extent  and  capacity,  from  which  he 
annually  drew  new  supplies.  He  invariably 
left  a  neighborhood  the  loser  by  his  visit,  and 
the  close  of  each  season  found  him  inconsolable 
for  his  "  losses."  But  the  next  year  he  was  sure 
to  come  back,  risen,  like  the  Phoenix,  from  his 
own  ashes,  and  ready  to  be  ruined  again  —  in 
the  same  way.  He  could  never  resist  the  plead 
ing  look  of  a  pretty  woman,  and  if  she  "jewed" 
him  twenty  per  cent,  (though  his  profits  were 
only  two  hundred),  the  tenderness  of  his  heart 
compelled  him  to  yield.  What  wonder  is  it, 
then,  if  he  was  a  prime  favorite  with  all  the 
women,  or  that  his  advent,  to  the  children,  made 
a  day  of  jubilee  ? 

But  the  peddler,  like  every  other  human 
"institution,"  only  had  "his  day."  The  time 
soon  came  when  he  was  forced  to  give  way 
before  the  march  of  newfangledness.  The 
country  grew  densely  populated,  neighborhoods 
became  thicker,  and  the  smoke  of  one  man's 


286  WESTEKN    CHARACTERS. 

chimney  could  be  seen  from  another's  front 
door.  People's  wants  began  to  be  permanent 
• — they  were  no  longer  content  with  transient 
or  periodical  supplies  —  they  demanded  some 
thing  more  constant  and  regular.  From  this 
demand  arose  the  little  neighborhood  "  stores," 
established  for  each  settlement  at  a  central  and 
convenient  point  —  usually  at  "  cross-roads,"  or 
next  door  to  the  blacksmith's  shop  —  and  these 
it  was  which  superseded  the  peddler's  trade. 

"We  could  wish  to  pause  here,  and,  after  de 
scribing  the  little  depot,  "take  an  account  of 
stock :"  for  no  store,  not  even  a  sutler's,  ever 
presented  a  more  amusing  or  characteristic 
assortment.  But  since  these  modest  establish 
ments  were  generally  the  nuclei,  around  which 
western  towns  were  built,  we  must  reserve  our 
fire  until  we  reach  that  subject. 

But  the  peddler  had  not  acquired  his  experi 
ence  of  life  for  nothing,  he  was  not  to  be  out 
done,  even  by  the  more  aristocratic  stationary 
shop-keeper.  When  he  found  his  trade  de 
clining,  he  cast  about  him  for  a  good  neighbor 
hood,  still  uninvaded  by  the  Lombards,  and  his 
extensive  knowledge  of  the  country  soon  enabled 
him  to  find  one.  Here  he  erected  his  own 


THE   PEDDLEK.  287 

cabin,  and  boldly  entered  the  lists  against  his 
new  competitors.  If  lie  could  find  no  eligible 
point  for  such  an  establishment,  or  if  he  augured 
unfavorably  of  his  success  in  the  new  walk,  he 
was  not  cast  down.  If  he  could  not  "keep 
store,"  he  could  at  least  "keep  tavern,"  an 
occupation  for  which  his  knowledge  of  the 
world  and  cosmopolitan  habits,  admirably  fitted 
him.  In  this  capacity,  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  refer  to  him  again ;  and  have  now  only  to 
record,  that  in  the  progress  of  time,  he  grew 
rich,  if  not  fat,  and  eventually  died,  "  universally 
regretted." 


.    VIII. 

THE  SCHOOLMASTER. 


'There,  in  his  quiet  mansion,  skilled  to  rule, 
The  village  master  taught  his  little  school. 

I  knew  him  well,  and  every  truant  knew: 
***** 

Yet  he  was  kind ;  or,  if  severe  in  aught, 
The  love  he  bore  to  learning  was  in  fault. 
The  village  all  declared  how  much  he  knew: 
'Twas  certain  he  could  write,  and  cipher  too." — 

GOLDSMITH'S  "DESERTED  VILLAGE." 


IN  the  progress  of  society,  the  physical  wants 
are  felt  before  the  intellectual.  Men  appre 
ciate  tlie  necessity  for  covering  their  backs  and 
lining  their  stomachs  before  storing  their  minds, 
and  they  naturally  provide  a  shelter  from  the 
storms  of  heaven,  before  they  seek  (with  other 
learning)  a  knowledge  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
Thus  the  rudest  social  system  comprises  some 
thing  of  the  mechanic  arts  —  government  begins 
to  advance  toward  the  dignity  of  a  science  — 
commerce  follows  the  establishment  of  legal 


T  UK    s  r  ii  o  o  i,  .\i  \  s  T  i;  K. 


THE    SCHOOLMASTER,  289 

supremacy  —  and  the  education  of  the  citizen 
comes  directly  after  the  recognition  of  his  social 
and  political  rights.  So,  the  justice  of  the 
peace  (among  other  legal  functionaries)  indi 
cates  subjection,  more  or  less  complete,  to  the 
regulations  of  law  ;  the  peddler  represents  the 
beginning  of  commercial  interests ;  and  the 
schoolmaster  succeeds  him,  in  the  natural  order 
of  things. 

It  may  be  possible  to  preserve  a  high  respect 
for  a  calling,  while  we  despise  the  men  who 
exercise  it :  though  I  believe  this  is  not  one  of 
the  rules  which  "  work  both  ways,"  and  the  con 
verse  is,  therefore,  not  equally  true.  A  man's 
occupation  affects  liim  more  nearly  than  he 
does  his  occupation.  A  thousand  contemptible 
men  will  not  bring  a  respectable  profession  into 
so  much  disrepute,  as  a  contemptible  profession 
will  a  thousand  respectable  men.  All  the  mili 
tary  talents,  for  example,  of  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  our  armies,  would  not  preserve  him 
from  contempt,  should  he  set  up  a  barber-shop, 
or  drive  a  milk-cart:  but  the  barber,  or  the 
milkman,  might  make  a  thousand  blunders  at 
the  head  of  an  army,  should  extravagant  democ 
racy  elevate  him  to  that  position,  and  yet  the 
rank  of  a  general  would  be  as  desirable,  because 
as  honorable,  as  ever. 

13 


290  WESTERN    CIIAEAOTEKS. 

It  is  certainly  true,  however,  that  the  most 
exalted  station  may  be  degraded  by  filling  it 
with  a  low  or  despicable  incumbent,  for  the 
mental  effort  necessary  to  the  abstraction  of  the 
employment  from  him  who  pursues  it,  is  one 
which  most  men  do  not  take  the  trouble  to 
make  :  an  effort,  indeed,  which  the  majority  of 
men  are  incapable  of  making.  A  vicious  priest 
degrades  the  priestly  vocation  —  a  hypocrite 
brings  reproach  upon  the  religious  profession  — 
a  dishonest  lawyer  sinks  the  legal  character 
—  and  even  the  bravest  men  care  but  little  for 
promotion  in  an  army,  when  cowardice  and  in- 
competency  are  rewarded  with  rank  and  power. 
But  manifest  incapacity,  culpable  neglect  of 
duty,  or  even  a  positively  vicious  character, 
will  not  reduce  a  calling  to  contempt,  or  bring 
it  into  disrepute  so  soon,  as  any  quality  which 
excites  ridicule. 

An  awkward  figure,  a  badly-shaped  garment, 
or  an  ungainly  manner,  will  sometimes  out 
weigh  the  acquirements  of  the  finest  scholar; 
and  the  cause  of  religion  has  Buffered  more, 
from  the  absence  of  the  softer  graces,  in  its 
clerical  representations,  than  from  all  the  logic 
of  its  adversaries.  A  laugh  is  more  effectual 
to  subvert  an  institution,  than  an  argument  — 
for  it  is  easier  to  make  men  ashamed,  than  to 


THE    SCHOOLMASTER.  291 

convince  them.  Truth  and  reason  are  formida- 
able  weapons,  but  ridicule  is  stronger  than 
either — or  both. 

Thus :  All  thinking  men  will  eagerly  admit, 
that  the  profession  of  the  schoolmaster  is,  not 
only  respectable,  but  honorable,  alike  to  the  in 
dividual,  and  to  the  community  in  which  he 
pursues  it :  yet,  rather  than  teach  a  school  for  a 
livelihood,  the  large  majority  of  the  same  men 
would  "  split  rails"  or  cut  cord-wood  !  And  this 
is  not  because  teaching  is  laborious  —  though  it 
is  laborious,  and  thankless,  too,  beyond  all 
other  occupations ;  but  because  a  number  and 
variety  of  causes,  into  which  we  need  not  in 
quire,  have  combined  to  throw  ridicule  upon 
him,  who  is  derisively  called  the  pedagogue  — 
for  most  men  would  rather  be  shot  at,  than 
laughed  at.  Cause  and  effect  are  always  inter- 
reactive  :  and  the  refusal  of  the  most  compe 
tent  men,  to  "  take  up  the  birch" — which  is 
the  effect  of  tin's  derision  —  has  filled  our 
school-rooms  with  men,  who  are,  not  unfairly, 
its  victims.  Thus  the  profession  —  (for  such  is 
its  inherent  dignity)  —  itself,  has  fallen  into  dis 
credit —  even  though  the  judgment  of  men 
universally  is,  that  it  is  not  only  useful,  but  in 
dispensable. 

"Nor  is  that  judgment  incorrect.     For,  though 


292  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

home-education  may  sometimes  succeed,  it  is 
usually  too  fragmentary  to  be  beneficial  —  pri 
vate  tutors  are  too  often  the  slaves  of  their  pu 
pils,  and  can  not  enforce  "attention,"  the  first 
condition  of  advancement,  where  thej  have  not 
the  paraphernalia  of  command  —  and,  as  for 
self-education,  logically  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  :  "  one  might  as  well  attempt  to  lift  him 
self  over  the  fence,  by  the  straps  of  his  boots," 
as  to  educate  himself  "  without  a  master." 

The  schoolmaster,  then,  is  a  useful  member 
of  society  —  not  to  be  spared  at  any  stage  of  its 
progress.  But  he  is  particularly  necessary  to 
communities  which  are  in  the  transition  state  ; 
for,  upon  the  enlightenment  of  the  rising  gener 
ation  depend  the  success  and  preservation  of 
growing  institutions.  lSTor  does  his  usefulness 
consist  altogether  —  or  even  in  a  great  measure 
—  in  the  number  of  facts,  sciences,  or  theories, 
with  which  he  may  store  the  minds  of  his  pu 
pils.  These  are  not  the  objects  of  education, 
any  more  than  a  knowledge  of  the  compart 
ments  in  a  printer's  "  letter-case,"  is  the  ulti 
mate  result  of  the  art  of  printing.  The  types 
are  so  arranged,  in  order  to  enable  the  com 
positors  more  conveniently  to  attain  the  ends, 
for  which  that  arrangement  is  only  a  prepara- 


THE   SCHOOLMASTEE.  293 

tion :  facts  and  sciences  are  taught  for  the  im 
provement  of  the  faculties,  in  order  that  they 
may  work  with  more  ease,  force,  and  certainty, 
upon  other  and  really  important  things ;  for 
education  is  only  the  marshalling  of  powers, 
preliminary  to  the  great  "  battle  of  life." 

The  mind  of  an  uneducated  man,  however 
strong  in  itself,  is  like  an  army  of  undisciplined 
men  —  a  crowd  of  chaotic,  shapeless,  and  often 
misdirected  elements.  To  bring  these  into 
proper  subjection  —  to  enable  him  to  bind 
them,  with  anything  like  their  native  force,  to 
a  given  purpose  —  a  prescribed  "trainir.g"  is 
necessary ;  and  it  is  this  which  education  sup 
plies.  If  you  can  give  a  mind  the  habit  of  at 
tention,  all  the  power  it  has  will  be  made 
available :  and  it  is  through  this  faculty,  that 
even  dull  minds  are  so  frequently  able  to 
mount  the  car  of  triumph,  and  ride  swiftly 
past  so  many,  who  are  immeasurably  their 
superiors.  The  first  element  of  the  discipline 
which  develops  this  power,  is  submission  to 
control ;  and  without  such  subordination,  a 
school  can  not  exist.  Thus,  the  first  lesson 
that  children  learn  from  the  schoolmaster,  is 
the  most  valuable  acquisition  they  can  make. 

But  it  was  no  easy  task  to  teach  this  princi- 


294:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

pie  to  the  sturdy  children  of  the  early  Western 
"  settler  ;"  in  this,  as  in  all  other  things,  the 
difficulty  of  the  labor  was  in  exact  proportion 
to  its  necessity.  The  peculiarities  of  the  peo 
ple,  and  the  state  of  the  country,  were  not 
favorable  to  the  establishment  of  the  limited 
monarchy,  requisite  to  successful  teaching.  In 
the  first  place,  the  parents  very  generally  un 
dervalued,  what  they  called  "  mere  book-learn 
ing."  For  themselves,  they  had  found  more 
use  for  a  rifle  than  a  pen ;  and  they  naturally 
thought  it  a  much  more  valuable  accomplish 
ment,  to  be  able  to  scalp  a  squirrel  with  a 
bullet,  at  a  hundred  paces,  than  to  read  the 
natural  history  of  the  animal  in  the  "  picture- 
book."  They  were  enthusiastic,  also,  upon  the 
subject  of  independence;  and,  though  they 
could  control  their  children  sternly  enough  at 
home,  they  were  apt  to  look,  with  a  jealous  eye, 
upon  any  attempt  to  establish  dominion  else 
where.  The  children  partook  largely  of  the 
free,  wild  spirit  of  their  fathers.  They  were 
very  prompt  to  resist  anything  like  encroach 
ment  upon  their  privileges  or  rights,  and  were, 
of  course,  pretty  certain  to  consider  even  salu 
tary  control  an  attempt  to  assert  a  despotism. 
I  believe  history  contains  no  record,  whatever 
the  annals  of  fiction  may  display,  of  a  boy, 


THE    SCHOOLMASTER.  295 

with  much  spirit,  submitting  without  a  murmur 
to  the  authority  of  the  schoolmaster :  if  such  a 
prodigy  of  enlightened  humility  ever  existed, 
he  certainly  did  not  live  in  the  west.  But  a 
more  important  difficulty  than  either  of  tlfese, 
was  the  almost  entire  want  of  money  in  the 
country  ;  and  without  this  there  was  but  little 
encouragement  for  the  effort  to  overcome  other 
obstacles.  Money  may  be  only  a  representative 
of  value,  but  its  absence  operates  marvellously 
like  the  want  of  the  value  itself,  and  the  primi 
tive  people  of  those  days,  and  especially  that 
class  to  which  the  schoolmaster  belonged,  had 
a  habit,  however  illogical,  of  considering  it  a 
desirable  commodity,  per  se. 

All  these  impediments,  however,  could,  in  the 
course  of  time,  be  conquered :  the  country  was 
improving  in  social  tone  ;  parents  must  eventu 
ally  take  some  pride  even  in  the  accomplish 
ments  they  despised  ;  and  patience  and  gentle 
ness,  intermingled,  now  and  then,  with  a  little 
wholesome  severity,  will  ultimately  subdue  the 
most  stubborn  spirit.  As  for  the  pecuniary 
difficulty,  it  was,  as  the  political  economists 
will  tell  us,  only  the  absence  of  a  medium  at 
the  worst :  and,  in  its  stead,  the  master  could 
receive  boarding,  clothing,  and  the  agricultural 
products  of  the  country.  So  many  barrels  of 


296  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

corn,  or  bushels  of  wheat,  "  per  quarter,"  might 
not  be  so  conveniently  handled,  but  were  quite 
as  easy  to  be  counted,  as  an  equal  number  of 
dollars  ;  and  this  primitive  mode  of  payment  is 
even  yet  practised  in  many  rural  districts,  per 
haps,  in  both  the  east  and  west.  To  counter 
balance  its  inconvenience  of  bulk,  this  "cur 
rency"  possessed  a  double  advantage  over  the 
more  refined  "  medium  of  exchange"  now  in 
use:  it  was  not  liable  to  counterfeits,  and  the 
bank  from  which  it  issued  was  certain  not  to 
"  break." 

So  the  schoolmaster  was  not  to  be  deterred 
from  pursuing  his  honorable  calling,  even  by 
the  difficulties  incident  to  half-organized  commu 
nities.  Indeed,  teaching  was  the  resort,  at  least 
temporary,  of  four  fifths  of  the  educated,  and 
nearly  an  equal  number  of  the  uneducated 
young  men,  who  came  to  the  west :  for  certainly 
that  proportion  of  both  classes  arrived  in  the 
country,  without  money  to  support,  friends  to 
encourage,  or  pride  to  deter  them. 

They  were  almost  all  what  western  people 
call  "Yankees"  —  born  and  bred  east  of  the 
Hudson  :  descendants  of  the  sturdy  puritans  — 
and  distinguished  by  the  peculiarities  of  that 
strongly-marked  people,  in  personal  appear- 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  297 

ance,  language,  manners,  and  style  and  tone  of 
thought.  Like  the  peddlers,  they  were  gene 
rally  on  the  sunny  side  of  thirty,  full  of  the 
hopeful  energy  which  belongs  to  that  period  of 
life,  and  only  submitting  to  the  labors  and 
privations  of  the  present,  because  through  these 
they  looked  to  the  future  for  better  and  brighter 
things. 

The  causes  which  led  to  their  emigration, 
were  as  many  and  as  various  as  the  adventurers 
whom  they  moved.  They  were,  most  of  them, 
mere  boys :  young  "Whittingtons,  whom  the 
bells  did  not  ring  back,  to  become  lord-mayors  ; 
who,  indeed,  had  not  even  the  limited  posses 
sions  of  that  celebrated  worthy  ;  and,  thus  des 
titute,  they  wandered  off,  many  hundreds  of 
miles,  "  to  see  the  world  and  make  their  for 
tunes,"  at  an  age  when  the  youth  of  the  present 
day  are  just  beginning  to  think  of  college. 
They  brought  neither  money,  letters  of  intro 
duction,  nor  bills  of  exchange :  they  expected 
to  find  neither  acquaintance  nor  relatives.  But 
they  knew — for  it  was  one  of  the  wise  maxims 
of  their  unromantic  fathers  —  that  industry  and 
honesty  must  soon  gather  friends,  and  that  all 
other  desirable  things  would  speedily  follow. 
They  had  great  and  just  confidence  in  their  own 
abilities  to  "get  along;"  and  if  they  did  not 
13* 


298  WESTERN    CHAEACTEES. 

actually  tliink  that  the  whole  world  belonged  to 
them,  they  were  well-assured,  that  in  an  in 
credibly  short  space  of  time,  they  would  be 
able  to  possess  a  respectable  portion  of  it. 

A  genuine  specimen  of  the  class  to  which 
most  of  the  early  schoolmasters  belonged,  never 
felt  any  misgivings  about  his  own  success,  and 
never  hesitated  to  assume  any  position  in  life. 
Neither  pride  nor  modesty  was  ever  suffered  to 
interfere  with  his  action.  He  would  take  charge 
of  a  numerous  school,  when  he  could  do  little 
more  than  write  his  own  name,  just  as  he  would 
have  undertaken  to  run  a  steamboat,  or  com 
mand  an  army,  when  he  had  never  studied 
engineering  or  heard  of  strategy.  Nor  would 
he  have  failed  in  either  capacity :  a  week's  ap 
plication  would  make  him  master  of  a  steam- 
engine,  or  a  proficient  (after  the  present  manner 
of  proficiency)  in  tactics;  and  as  for  his  school, 
he  could  himself  learn  at  night  what  he  was  to 
teach  others  on  the  following  day !  Nor  was 
this  mere  "conceit"-  — though,  in  some  other 
respects,  that  word,  in  its  limited  sense,  was 
not  inapplicable  —  neither  was  it  altogether 
ignorant  presumption ;  for  one  of  these  men 
was  seldom  known  to  fail  in  anything  he  under 
took:  or,  if  he  did  fail,  he  was  never  found  to 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  299 

be  cast  down  by  defeat,  and  the  resiliency  of 
his  nature  justified  his  confidence. 

The  pursuit  of  a  certain  avocation,  for  a  long 
period,  is  apt  to  warp  one's  nature  to  its  in 
equalities  ;  and  as  the  character  gradually 
assumes  the  peculiar  shape,  the  personal  ap 
pearance  changes  in  a  corresponding  direction 
and  degree.  Thus,  the  blacksmith  becomes 
brawny,  square,  and  sturdy,  and  the  character 
istic  swing  of  his  arm  gives  tone  to  his  whole 
bearing:  the  silversmith  acquires  a  peering, 
cunning  look,  as  if  he  were  always  examining 
delicate  machinery :  the  physician  becomes 
solemn,  stately,  pompous,  and  mysterious,  and 
speaks  like  "  Sir  Oracle,"  as  if  he  were  eternally 
administering  a  bread-pill,  or  enjoining  a  regi 
men  of  drugs  and  starvation :  the  lawyer 
assumes  a  keen,  alert,  suspicious  manner,  as  if 
he  were  constantly  in  pursuit  of  a  latent  per 
jury,  or  feared  that  his  adversary  might  discover 
a  flaw  in  his  "  case  :"  and  so  on,  throughout  the 
catalogue  of  human  avocations.  But,  among 
all  these,  that  which  marks  its  votaries  most 
clearly,  is  school-teaching. 

There  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  antagonism 
between  this  employment  and  all  manner  of 
neatness,  and  the  circle  of  the  schoolmaster's 


300  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

female  acquaintance  never  included  the  Graces. 
Attention  to  personal  decoration  is  usually, 
though  not  universally,  in  an  inverse  ratio 
to  mental  garniture ;  and  an  artistically-tied 
cravat  seems  inconsistent  with  the  supposition 
of  a  well-stored  head  above  it.  A  mind  which 
is  directed  toward  the  evolution  of  its  own 
powrers,  has  but  little  time  to  waste  in  adorning 
the  body;  and  a  fashionable  costume  would 
appear  to  cramp  the  intellect,  as  did  the  iron- 
vessel  the  genius  of  the  Arabian  tale.  Although, 
therefore,  there  are  numerous  exceptions — per 
sons  whose  externals  are  as  elegant  as  their 
pursuits  are  intellectual  —  men  of  assiduously- 
cultivated  minds  are  apt  to  be  careless  of  ap 
pearances,  and  the  principle  applies,  with  espe 
cial  force,  to  those  whose  business  it  is  to  develop 
the  minds  of  others. 

Nor  was  the  schoolmaster  of  early  days  in 
the  west,  an  exception  to  the  rule.  He  might 
not  be  as  learned,  nor  as  purely  intellectual,  as 
some  of  our  modern  college-professors,  but  he 
was  as  ungraceful,  and  as  awkwardly  clad,  as 
the  most  slovenly  of  them  all.  Indeed,  he  came 
of  a  stock  which  has  never  been  noted  for  a/iy 
of  the  lighter  accomplishments,  or  "  carnal 
graces ;"  for  at  no  period  of  its  eventful  history, 
has  the  puritan  type  been  a  remarkable  elegant 


THE    SCHOOLMASTER.  301 

one.  The  men  so  named  have  been  better 
known  for  bravery  than  taste,  for  zeal  than 
polish ;  and  since  there  is  always  a  corre 
spondence  between  habits  of  thought  and  feeling 
and  the  external  appearance,  the  physique  of 
the  race  is  more  remarkable  for  rigor  of  muscle 
and  angularity  of  outline,  than  for  accuracy  of 
proportion  or  smoothness  of  finish.  Neither 
Apollo  nor  Adonis  was  in  any  way  related  to 
the  family;  and  if  either  had  been,  the  proba 
bility  is  that  his  kindred  would  have  disowned 
him. 

Properly  to  represent  his  lineage,  therefore, 
the  schoolmaster  could  be  neither  dandy  nor 
dancing-master;  and,  as  if  to  hold  him  to  his 
integrity,  nature  had  omitted  to  give  him  any 
temptation,  in  his  own  person,  to  assume  either 
of  these  respectable  characters.  The  tailor  that 
could  shape  a  coat  to  fit  his  shoulders,  never 
yet  handled  shears ;  and  he  would  have  been  as 
ill  at  ease,  in  a  pair  of  fashionable  pantaloons, 
as  if  they  had  been  lined  with  chestnut-burrs. 
He  was  generally  above  the  medium  height, 
with  a  very  decided  stoop,  as  if  in  the  habit  of 
carrying  burthens ;  and  a  long,  high  nose,  with 
light  blue  eyes,  and  coarse,  uneven  hair,  of  a 
faded  weather-stain  color,  gave  his  face  the 
expression  answering  to  this  lathy  outline. 


302  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Tli o vigli  never  very  slender,  lie  was  always  thin  : 
as  if  he  had  been  flattened  out  in  a  rolling-mill ; 
and  rotundity  of  corporation  was  a  mode  of 
development  not  at  all  characteristic.  His  com 
plexion  was  seldom  florid,  and  not  often  de 
cidedly  pale  ;  a  sort  of  sallow  discoloration  was 
its  prevailing  hue,  like  that  which  marks  the 
countenance  of  a  consumer  of  "  coarse"  whiskey 
and  strong  tobacco.  But  these  failings  were 
not  the  cause  of  his  cadaverous  look — for  a 
faithful  representative  of  the  class  held  them 
both  in  commendable  abhorrence  —  they  were 
not  the  vices  of  his  nature. 

There  wras  a  subdivision  of  the  class,  a  sec 
ondary  type,  not  so  often  observed,  but  common 
enough  to  entitle  it  to  a  brief  notice.  He  was, 
generally,  short,  square,  and  thick  —  the  latitude 
bearing  a  better  proportion  to  the  longitude  than 
in  his  lank  brother — but  never  approaching 
anything  like  roundness.  With  tins  attractive 
figure,  he  had  a  complexion  of  decidedly  bilious 
darkness,  and  what  is  commonly  called  a  "  dish- 
face."  His  nose  was  depressed  between  the 
eyes,  an  arrangement  which  dragged  the  point 
upward  in  the  most  cruel  manner,  but  gave  it 
an  expression  equally  ludicrous  and  impertinent. 
A  pair  of  small,  round,  black  ey es,  encompassed 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  303 

- — like  two  little  feudal  fortresses,  eacli  by  its 
moat — with  a  circle  of  yellowish  white,  peered 
out  from  under  brows  like  battlements.  Coarse, 
black  hair,  always  cut  short,  and  standing  erect, 
so  as  to  present  something  the  appearance  of 
a  chevaux  de  frise,  protected  a  hard,  round 
head  —  a  shape  most  appropriate  to  hTs  lineage 
—  while,  with  equal  propriety,  ears  of  corre 
sponding  magnitude  stood  boldly  forth  to  assert 
their  claim  to  notice. 

Both  these  types  were  distinguished  for  large 
feet,  which  no  boot  could  enclose,  and  hands 
broad  beyond  the  compass  of  any  glove.  Neither 
was  ever  known  to  get  drunk,  to  grow  fat,  to 
engage  in  a  game  of  chance,  or  to  lose  his  ap 
petite  :  it  became  the  teacher  of  "  ingenuous 
youth"  to  preserve  an  exemplary  bearing  before 
those  whom  he  was  endeavoring  to  benefit; 
while  respectable  "  appearances,"  and  proper 
appreciation  of  the  good  things  of  life,  were 
the  alpha  and  omega  of  his  system  of  morality. 

But  the  schoolmaster — and  we  now  include 
both  subdivisions  of  the  class  —  was  not  deficient 
as  an  example  in  many  other  things,  to  all  who 
wished  to  learn  the  true  principles  of  living. 
Among  other  things,  he  was  distinguished  for 
a  rigid,  iron-bound  economy :  a  characteristic 


304:  WESTERN   CHAKACTEKS. 

which  it  might  have  been  well  to  impart  to 
many  of  his  pupils.  But  that  which  the  discreet 
master  denominated  prudence^  the  extravagant 
and  wrong-headed  scholar  was  inclined  to  term 
meanness :  and  historical  truth  compels  us  to 
admit,  that  the  rigor  of  grim  economy  some 
times  wofe  an  aspect  of  questionable  austerity. 
Notwithstanding  this,  however,  when  we  reflect 
upon  the  scanty  compensation  afforded  the 
benefactor  of  the  rising  generation,  we  can  not 
severely  blame  his  penurious  tenacity  any  more 
than  we  can  censure  an  empty  wine-cask  for  not 
giving  forth  the  nectar  which  we  have  never 
poured  into  it.  If,  accordingly,  he  was  out  at 
the  elbows,  we  are  bound  to  conclude  that  it 
was  because  he  had  not  the  money  to  buy  a  new 
coat ;  and  if  he  never  indulged  himself  in  any 
of  the  luxuries  of  life,  it  was,  probably,  because 
the  purchase  of  its  necessaries  had  already 
brought  him  too  near  the  bottom  of  his  purse. 

He  was  always,  moreover,  "  a  close  calcu 
lator,"  and,  with  a  wisdom  worthy  of  all  imita 
tion,  never  mortgaged  the  future  for  the  con 
venience  of  the  present.  Indeed,  this  power 
of  "  calculation"  was  not  only  a  talent  but  a 
passion  :  you  would  have  thought  that  his  pro 
genitors  had  been  arithmeticians  since  the  time 
of  Noah  !  He  could  "  figure  up"  any  proposi- 


THE    SCHOOLMASTER.  305 

tion  whatsoever:  but  he  was  especially  great 
upon  the  question,  how  much  he  could  save 
from  his  scanty  salary,  and  yet  live  to  the  end 
of  the  year. 

In  fact,  it  was  only  living  that  he  cared  for. 
The  useful,  with  him,  was  always  superior  to 
the  ornamental ;  and  whatever  was  not  abso 
lutely  necessary,  he  considered  wasteful  and 
extravagant.  Even  the  profusion  of  western 
hospitality  was,  in  his  eyes,  a  crime  against  the 
law  of  prudence,  and  he  would  as  soon  have 
forgiven  a  breach  of  good  morals  as  a  violation 
of  this,  his  favorite  rule. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  he  carried  this 
principle  with  him  into  the  schoolroom,  and  was 
very  averse  to  teaching  anything  beyond  what 
would  certainly  "  pay-"  He  rigidly  eschewed 
embellishment,  and  adorned  his  pupils  witli  no 
graceful  accomplishments.  It  might  be  that  he 
never  taught  anything  above  the  useful  branches 
of  education,  because  he  had  never  learned 
more  himself;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  would 
not  have  imparted  merely  polite  learning,  had 
his  own  training  enabled  him  to  do  so  :  for  he 
had,  constitutionally,  a  high  contempt  for  all 
"flimsy"  things,  and,  moreover, he  was  not  em 
ployed  or  paid  to  teach  rhetoric  or  belles-lettres, 
and,  "  on  principle,"  he  never  gave  more  in  re- 


306  WESTERN   CKAKACTEES. 

turn    than    the   value   of    the    money   he    re 
ceived. 

With  this  reservation,  his  duties  were  always 
thoroughly  performed,  for  neither  by  nature, 
education,  nor  lineage,  was  he  likely  to  slight 
any  recognised  obligation.  He  devoted  his  time 
and  talents  to  his  school,  as  completely  as  if  he 
had  derived  from  it  the  income  of  a  bishop  ;  and 
the  iron  constitution,  of  both  body  and  mind,  pe 
culiar  to  his  race,  enabled  him  to  endure  a  greater 
amount  of  continuous  application  than  any  other 
man.  Indeed,  his  powers  of  endurance  were 
quite  surprising,  and  the  fibre  of  his  mind  was 
as  tough  as  that  of  his  body.  Even  upon  a 
quality  so  valuable  as  this,  however,  he  never 
prided  himself;  for,  excepting  the  boast  of  race, 
which  was  historical  and  not  unjustifiable,  he 
had  no  pride.  He  might  be  a  little  vain  ;  and, 
in  what  he  said  and  did,  i^ore  especially  in  its 
manner,  there  might  occasionally  be  a  shade  of 
self-conceit :  for  he  certainly  entertained  no 
mean  opinion  of  himself.  This  might  be  a  little 
obtrusive,  too,  at  times ;  for  he  had  but  slight 
veneration  for  men,  or  their  feelings,  or  opinions  ; 
and  he  would  sometimes  pronounce  a  judgment 
in  a  tone  of  superiority  justly  offensive.  But 
he  possessed  the  uncommon  virtue  of  sincerity  : 
he  thoroughly  believed  in  the  infallibility  of  his 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  307 

own  conclusions  ;  and  for  this  the  loftiness  of 
his  tone  might  be  forgiven. 

The  most  important' of  the  opinions  thus  ex 
pressed,  were  upon  religious  subjects,  for  Jews, 
puritans,  and  Spaniards,  have  always  been  very 
decided  controversialists.  His  theology  was 
grim,  solemn,  and  angular,  and  he  was  as 
combativ7e  as  one  of  Cromwell's  disputatious 
troopers.  In  his  capacious  pocket,  he  always 
carried  a  copy  of  the  New  Testament  —  as,  of 
old,  the  carnal  controvertists  bore  a  sword 
buckled  to  the  side.  Thus  armed,  he  was  a 
genuine  polemical  "swash-buckler,"  and  would 
whip  out  his  Testament,  as  the  bravo  did  his 
weapon,  to  cut  you  in  two  without  ceremony. 
He  could  carve  you  into  numerous  pieces,  and 
season  you  with  scriptural  salt  and  pepper  ;  and 
he  would  do  it  with  a  gusto  so  serious,  that  it 
would  have  been  no  unreasonable  apprehension 
that  he  intended  to  eat  you  afterward.  And 
the  value  of  his  triumph  was  enhanced,  too,  by 
the  consideration  that  it  was  \von  by  no  mere 
tricious  graces  or  rhetorical  nourishes ;  for  the 
ease  of  his  gesticulation  was  such  as  you  see  in 
the  arms  of  a  windmill,  and  his  enunciation  was 
as  nasal  and  monotonous  as  that  of  the  Reverend 
Eleazer  Poundtext,  under  whose  ministrations 
he  had  been  brought  up  in  all  godliness. 


308  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

Bnt  he  possessed  other  accomplishments  he- 
side  those  of  the  polemic.  He  was  not,  it  is 
true,  overloaded  with  the  learning  of  "  the 
schools"  —  was,  in  fact,  quite  ignorant  of  some 
of  the  branches  of  knowledge  which  he  im 
parted  to  his  pupils  :  yet  this  was  never  allowed 
to  become  apparent,  for  as  we  have  intimated, 
he  would  frequently  himself  acquire,  at  night, 
the  lessons  which  he  was  to  teacli  on  the 
morrow.  But  time  was  seldom  wasted  among 
the  people -from  whom  he  sprang,  and  this  want 
of  preparation  denoted  that  his  leisure  hours 
had  been  occupied  in  possessing  himself  of  other 
acquirements.  Among  these,  the  most  elegant, 
if  not  the  most  useful,  was  music,  and  his 
favorite  instrument  was  the  flute. 

In  "  David  Oopperfield,"  Dickens  describes 
a  certain  flute-playing  tutor,  by  the  name  of 
Mell,  concerning  whom,  and  the  rest  of  man 
kind,  he  expresses  the  rash  opinion,  "after 
many  years  of  reflection,"  that  "nobody  ever 
could  have  played  worse."  But  Dickens  never 
saw  Strongfaith  Lippincott,  the  schoolmaster, 
nor  heard  his  lugubrious  flute,  and  he  therefore 
knows  nothing  of  the  superlative  degree  of  de 
testable  playing. 

There  are  instruments  upon  which  even  an 
unskilful  performer  may  make  tolerable  music, 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  309 

but  the  flute  is  not  one  of  them  —  the  man  who 
murders  that,  is  a  malefactor  entitled  to  no 
"  benefit  of  clergy  :"  and  our  schoolmaster  did 
murder  it  in  the  most  inhuman  manner  !  But, 
let  it  be  said  in  mitigation  of  his  offence,  he  had 
never  received  the  benefit  of  any  scientific 
teaching  —  he  had  not  been  "under  the  tuition 
of  the  celebrated  Signer  Wheeziana,"  nor  had 
he  profited  by  "the  invaluable  instructions  of 
the  unrivalled  Bellowsblauer" — and  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether  he  would  have  gained  much 
advantage  from  them,  had  he  met  the  oppor 
tunity. 

He  knew  that,  in  order  to  make  a  noise  on 
the  flute,  or,  indeed,  anywhere  else,  it  was 
necessary  to  How,  and  blow  he  did,  like  Boreas  ! 
He  always  carried  the  instrument  in  his  pocket, 
and  on  being  asked  to  play  —  a  piece  of  polite 
ness  for  which  he  always  looked — he  drew  it 
out  with  the  solemnity  of  visage  with  which  a 
tender-hearted  sheriff  produces  a  death-warrant, 
and  while  he  screwed  the  joints  together,  sighed 
blasts  like  a  furnace.  He  usually  deposited 
himself  upon  the  door-sill  —  a  favorite  seat  for 
him  —  and  collecting  the  younger  members  of 
the  family  about  him,  thence  poured  forth  his 
strains  of  concentrated  mournfulness. 

He  invariably  selected  the  most  melancholy 


310  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

tunes,  playing,  with  a  more  profound  solemnity, 
the  gloomiest  psalms  and  lamentations.  When 
lie  ventured  upon  secular  music,  lie  never  per 
formed  anything  more  lively  than  "  The  Misle- 
toe  Bough,"  or  "  Barbara  Allen,"  and  into  each 
he  threw  a  spirit  so  much  more  dismal  than  the 
original,  as  almost  to  induce  his  hearers  to 
imitate  the  example  of  the  disconsolate  "  Bar 
bara,"  and  "  turn  their  faces  to  the  wall"  in 
despair  of  being  ever  again  able  to  muster  a 
smile  ! 

He  was  not  a  scientific  musician,  then  —  for 
tunately  for  his  usefulness  —  because  thorough 
musicians  are  generally  "good-for-nothing" 
else.  But  music  was  not  a  science  among  the 
pioneers,  though  the  undertone  of  melancholy 
feeling,  to  which  all  sweet  sounds  appeal,  was 
as  easily  reached  in  them  as  in  any  other  people. 
Their  wants  in  this,  as  in  other  things,  were  very 
easily  satisfied  —  they  were  susceptible  of  pleas 
ure  from  anything  which  was  in  the  least  com 
mendable  :  and  not  feeling  obliged,  by  any 
captious  canon,  to  condemn  nine  true  notes,  be 
cause  of  the  tenth  false  one,  they  allowed  them 
selves  to  enjoy  the  best  music  they  could  get, 
without  thinking  of  the  damage  done  their 
musical  and  critical  reputation. 

But  his   flute  was   not   the   only  means  of 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  311 

pleasing  within  the  schoolmaster's  reach :  for 
he  could  flatter  as  well  as  if  the  souls  of  ten 
courtiers  had  transmigrated  into  his  single  body. 
He  might  not  do  it  quite  so  gracefully  as  one 
of  these,  nor  with  phrases  so  well-chosen,  or  so 
correctly  pronounced,  but  what  he  said  was 
always  cunningly  adapted  to  the  character  of 
the  person  -whom  he  desired  to  move.  He  had 
"a  deal  of  candied  courtesy,"  especially  for  the 
women  ;  and  though  his  sturdy  manhood  and 
the  excellent  opinion  of  himself — both  of  which 
came  to  him  from  his  ancestry — usually  pre 
served  him  from  the  charge  of  servility,  he  was 
sometimes  a  "  cozener"  whose  conscience  annoy 
ed  him  with  very  few  scruples.  Occasionally 
he  might  be  seen  fawning  upon  the  rich  ;  but  it 
was  not  with  him  —  as  it  usually  is  with  the 
parasites  of  wealthy  men  —  because  he  thought 
Dives  more  respectable,  but  more  useful,  on 
account  of  his  money :  the  opulent  possessed 
what  the  indigent  wanted,  and  the  shortest  road 
to  the  goal  of  Cupidity,  lay  through  the  region 
of  Vanity.  There  was  none  of  that  servility 
which  Mr.  Carlyle  has  attempted  to  dignify  with 
the  name  of  "  hero-worship,"  for  the  rich  man 
was  rather  a  bird  to  be  plucked,  than  a  "  hero" 
to  be  worshipped.  And  though  it  may  seem 
that  I  do  the  schoolmaster  little  honor  by  the 


312  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

distinction,  I  can  not  but  think  cupidity  a  more 
manly  trait  than  servility  :  the  beast  of  prey  a 
more  respectable  animal  than  the  hound. 

But  the  schoolmaster's  obsequiousness  was 
more  in  manner  than  in  inclination,  and  found 
its  excuse  in  the  dependence  of  his  circum 
stances.  It  has  been  immemorially  the  custom 
of  the  world,  practically  to  undervalue  his  ser 
vices,  and  in  all  time  teaching  and  poverty  have 
been  inseparable  companions.  Nobody  ever 
cared  how  poorly  he  was  clad,  how  laborious 
his  life,  or  how  few  his  comforts ;  and  if  he 
failed  to  attend  to  his  own  interests  by  all 
the  arts  in  his  power,  no  one,  certainly,  wrould 
perform  the  office  for  him.  He  was  expected  to 
make  himself  generally  useful  without  being 
particular  about  his  compensation  :  he  was  wil 
ling  to  do  the  one,  but  was,  very  naturally, 
rather  averse  to  the  other:  that  which  justice 
would  not  give  him,  he  managed  to  procure  by 
stratagem. 

His  manners  thus  acquired  the  characteristics 
we  have  enumerated,  with  also  others.  He  was, 
for  example,  very  officious  ;  a  peculiarity  which 
might,  perhaps,  be  derived  from  his  parentage, 
but  which  was  never  repressed  "by  his  occupa 
tion.  The  desire  to  make  himself  agreeable, 
and  his  high  opinion  of  his  ability  to  do  so,  ren- 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  313 

dered  his  tone  and  bearing  very  familiar;  but 
tins  was,  also,  a  trait  which  he  shared  with  his 
race,  and  one  which  has  contributed,  as  much, 
as  any  other,  to  bring  the  people  called 
"  Yankees"  into  contempt  in  the  west.  The 
men  of  that  section  are  not  themselves  reserved, 
and  hate  nothing  more  than  ceremonious  polite 
ness  :  but  they  like  to  be  the  first  to  make  ad 
vances,  and  their  demonstrations  are  all  hearty, 
blunt,  and  open.  They  therefore  disliked  any 
thing  which  has  an  insinuating  tone,  and  the 
man  who  attempts  to  ingratiate  himself  with 
them,  whether  it  be  by  elaborate  arts  or  sidelong 
familiarity,  at  once  arms  them  against  them. 

The  schoolmaster  was  inquisitive,  also,  and 
to  that  western  men  most  decidedly  object. 
They  have  little  curiosity  themselves,  and  seldom 
ask  impertinent  questions.  "When  they  do  so, 
it  is  almost  always  for  the  purpose  of  insulting 
the  man  to  whom  they  are  put,  and  never  to 
make  themselves  agreeable.  The  habit  of  ask 
ing  numerous  questions  was,  therefore,  apt  to 
prejudice  them  against  men  whose  characteris 
tics  might  be,  in  other  respects,  very  estimable ; 
and  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  vulgar  and 
obtrusive  impertinence  is  an  unfortunate  accom 
paniment  to  an  introduction.  But  the  school 
master  never  meant  to  be  impertinent,  for  he 
14 


314:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

was  far  from  being  quarrelsome  (except  with  his 
scholars),  and  the  idea  that  any  one  could  be 
otherwise  than  pleased  with  his  notice,  however 
given,  never  entered  his  mind.  Though  his 
questions  were,  for  the  most  part,  asked  to 
gratify  a  constitutional  curiosity,  he  was  ac 
tuated  in  some  degree,  also,  by  the  notion  that 
his  condescension  would  be  acceptably  inter 
preted  by  those  whom  he  thus  favored.  But, 
like  many  other  benevolent  men,  who  put  force 
upon  their  inclinations  for  the  benefit  of  their 
neighbors,  he  was  mistaken  in  his  "  calculation ;" 
and  where  he  considered  himself  a  benefactor, 
he  was  by  others  pronounced  a  "  bore."  The 
fact  is,  he  had  some  versatility,  and,  like  most 
men  of  various  powers,  he  was  prone  to  think 
himself  a  much  greater  man  than  he  really  was. 
He  was  not  peculiarly  fitted  to  shine  as  a 
gallant  "  in  hall  or  bower,"  but  had  he  been  the 
climax  of  knightly  qualities,  the  very  imper 
sonation  of  beauty,  grace,  and  accomplishment, 
he  could  not  have  been  better  adapted  than,  in 
his  own  estimation,  he  already  was,  to  please 
the  fancy  of  a  lady.  He  was  blissfully  uncon 
scious  of  every  imperfection ;  and  displayed 
himself  before  what  he  thought  the  admiring 
gaze  of  all  dames  and  demoiselles,  as  proudly 
as  if  he  had  been  the  all-accomplished  victor  in 


THE   SCHOOLMASTER.  315 

some  passage  of  arms.  Yet  lie  carried  himself, 
in  outward  appearance,  as  meekly  as  the  hum 
blest  Christian,  and  took  credit  to  himself  ac 
cordingly.  He  seldom  pressed  his  advantages 
to  the  utter  subjugation  of  the  sighing  dames, 
but  deported  himself  with  commendable  for 
bearance  toward  the  weak  and  defenceless  whom 
his  perfections  had  disarmed.  He  was  as  mer 
ciful  as  he  was  irresistible  :  as  considerate  as  he 
was  beautiful. 

"What  a  saint  of  a  knight  is  the  knight  of  Saint  John!" 

The  personal  advantages  which  he  believed 
made  him  so  dangerous  to  the  peace  of  woman, 
were  counteracted,  thus,  by  his  saintly  piety. 
For — as  it  became  him  to  be,  both  in  the  char 
acter  of  a  man,  and  in  that  of  a  descendant  of 
the  puritans — he  was  always  habited  in  "the 
livery  of  heaven."  Some  ill-natured  and  sus 
picious  people,  it  is  true,  were  inclined  to  call 
his  exemplary  "  walk"  hypocritical,  and  to  stig 
matise  his  pious  "  conversation"  as  cant.  But 
the  ungodly  world  has  always  persecuted  the 
righteous,  and  the  schoolmaster  was  correct  in 
attributing  their  sneers  to  the  rebuke  which  his 
example  gave  to  their  wickedness,  and  to  make 
"  capital"  out  of  the  "  persecution."  And  who 
shall  blame  him  —  when  in  the  weary  intervals 


316  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

of  a  laborious  and  thankless  profession,  fatigue 
repressed  enthusiasm  —  if  he  sometimes  eked 
out  the  want  of  inspiration  by  a  godly  snuffle  ? 
True  piety  reduces  even  the  weapons  of  the 
scorner  to  the  service  of  religion,  and  the  citadel 
of  the  Gloomy  Kingdom  is  bombarded  with  the 
artillery  of  Satan  !  Thus,  the  nose,  which  is  so 
serviceable  in  the  production  of  the  devilish  and 
unchristian  sneer,  is  elevated  by  a  saintlike 
zeal,  to  the  expression  of  a  devout  whine :  and 
this  I  believe  to  be  the  only  satisfactory  explana 
tion  which  has  ever  been  given,  of  the  con 
nection,  in  so  many  good  men,  between  the 
nasal  and  the  religious  ! 

But  the  schoolmaster  usually  possessed  gen 
uine  religious  feeling,  as  well  as  a  pious  manner; 
and,  excepting  an  occasional  display  of  heredi 
tary,  and  almost  unconscious,  cunning,  he  lived 
"  a  righteous  and  upright  life." 

The  process  of  becoming  a  respectable  and 
respected  citizen  was  a  very  short  and  simple  one 
—  and  whether  the  schoolmaster  designed  to  re 
main  only  a  lord  of  the  ferrule,  or  casting  the 
insignia  of  his  office  behind  him,  to  seek  higher 
things,  he  was  never  slow  in  adopting  it. 
Among  his  scholars,  there  were  generally  half- 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER.  317 

a-dozen  or  more  young  women  — marriageable 
daughters  of  substantial  men  ;  and  from  this 
number  he  selected,  courted,  and  espoused,  some 
healthy,  buxom  girl,  the  heiress  of  a  considera 
ble  plantation  or  a  quantity  of  "  wild  land." 
He  always  sought  these  two  requisites  combined 
—  for  he  was  equally  fond  of  a  fine  person  and 
handsome  estate.  Upon  the  land,  he  generally 
managed  to  find  an  eligible  town-site ;  and, 
being  a  perfect  master  of  the  art  of  building 
cities  on  paper,  and  puffing  them  into  celebrity, 
his  sales  of  town-lots  usually  brought  him  a 
competent  fortune.  As  years  rolled  on,  11:3  sub 
stance  increased  with  the  improvement  of  the 
country  —  the  rougher  points  of  his  character 
were  gradually  rubbed  down  —  age  and  gray 
hairs  thickened  upon  his  brow  —  honors,  troops 
of  friends,  and  numerous  children,  gathered 
round  him  —  and  the  close  of  his  career  found 
him  respected  in  life  and  lamented  in  death. 
His  memory  is  a  monument  of  what  honesty 
and  industry,  even  without  worldly  advantages, 
may  always  accomplish. 

[NOTE. — A  friend  expresses  a  doubt  whether  I  have  not  made 
the  foregoing  portrait  too  hard-featured  for  historical  accuracy ; 
and,  by  way  of  fortifying  his  opinion,  points  to  illustrious  ex,- 
amples  of  men  who  have  taught  schools  in  their  youth  — 
senators  and  statesmen  —  some  of  whom  now  hold  prominent 


318  WESTEKN    CHAEACTEES. 

positions  before  the  people,  even  for  the  highest  offices  in  their 
gift  But  these  men  never  belonged  to  the  class  which  I  have 
attempted  to  portray.  Arriving  in  this  country  in  youth, 
•without  the  means  of  subsistence  —  in  many  cases,  long  before 
they  had  acquired  the  professions  which  afterward  made  them 
famous  —  they  resorted  to  school-teaching  as  a  mere  expedient 
for  present  support,  without  any  intention  to  make  it  the  occu 
pation  of  their  lives,  or  the  means  of  their  advancement. 
They  were  moved  by  an  ambition  which  looked  beyond  it,  and 
they  invariably  abandoned  it  so  soon  as  they  had  prepared 
themselves  for  another  pursuit. 

But  the  genuine  character  took  it  up  as  a  permanent  em 
ployment —  he  looked  to  it  not  only  as  a  means  of  temporary 
subsistence,  but  as  a  source,  by  some  of  the  direct  or  indirect 
channels  which  we  have  indicated,  of  lasting  income  —  and  he 
never  threw  it  up  until  he  had  already  secured  that  to  which 
the  other  class,  when  they  abandoned  the  occupation,  were  still 
looking  forward.  In  the  warfare  against  Ignorance,  therefore, 
these,  whom  we  have  described,  were  the  regular  army,  while 
the  exceptions  were  but  volunteers  for  a  limited  period,  and, 
in  the  muster-roll  of  permanent  strength,  they  are,  therefore, 
not  included.] 


T  II  E     S  ('  H  0  <>  L  M  1  S  T  K  K  X  S. 


IX. 

THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS. 

"And  yet  I  love  thee  not  —  thy  brow 
Is  but  the  sculptor's  mould  : 
It  wants  a  shade,  it  wants  a  glow — 
It  is  less  fair  than  cold."  L  E.  L. 

BUT  the  family  of  the  pioneer  consisted  of 
girls  as  well  as  boys ;  and  though  the  former 
were  never  so  carefully  educated  as  the  latter, 
they  were  seldom  allowed  to  go  wholly  un 
taught. 

The  more  modern  system,  which  separates 
the  sexes  while  infants,  and  never  suffers  them 
to  come  together  again  until  they  are  "  mar 
riageable,"  was  not  then  introduced;  and  we 
think  it  would  have  been  no  great  misfortune 
to  the  country  had  it  remained  in  Spain,  whence 
it  would  seem  to  have  been  imported.  Children 
of  both  sexes  were  intended  to  grow  up  together 
—  to  be  educated  in  company  —  at  least  until 
they  have  reached  the  points  where  their  paths 
naturally  diverge,  for  thus  only  can  they  be 


320  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

most  useful  to  eacli  oilier,  in  the  duties,  trials,  and 
struggles,  of  after  life.  The  artificial  refinement 
wliich  teaches  a  little  girl  that  a  boy  is  some 
thing  to  be  dreaded  —  a  sort  of  beast  of  prey  — 
before  she  recognises  any  difference,  save  in 
dress,  can  never  benefit  her  at  best ;  for  by-and- 
by  she  will  discover  the  falsehood  :  the  very 
instincts  of  her  nature  would  unveil  it,  did  she 
learn  it  in  no  other  way  :  and  as  action  and  re 
action  are  equal,  the  rebound  may  cause  her  to 
entertain  opinions  altogether  too  favorable  to 
those  whom  she  has  so  foolishly  been  taught  to 
fear. 

Nor  is  the  effect  of  such  a  system  likely  to 
be  any  better  upon  the  other  sex :  for  it  is  asso 
ciation  with  females  (as  early  as  possible,  too, 
all  the  better),  which  softens,  humanizes,  graces, 
and  adorns  the  masculine  character.  The  boy 
who  has  been  denied  such  association  —  the  in 
cidents  to  whose  education  have  made  him  shy, 
as  so  many  are,  even  of  little  girls  —  is  apt  to 
grow  up  morose  and  selfish,  ill-tempered,  and 
worse  mannered.  When  the  impulses  of  his 
developing  nature  finally  force  him  into  female 
society,  he  goes  unprepared,  and  comes  away 
without  profit :  his  ease  degenerates  into  famili 
arity,  his  conversation  is,  at  best,  but  washy 
sentimentalisin,  and  the  association,  until  the 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  321 

accumulated  rust  of  youth  is  worn  away,  is  of 
very  doubtful  benefit  to  both  parties.  Indeed, 
parents  who  thus  govern  and  educate  their 
children,  can  find  no  justification  for  the  prac 
tice,  until  they  can  first  so  alter  the  course  of 
Nature,  as  to  establish  the  law,  that  each  family 
shall  be  composed  altogether  of  girls,  or  shall 
consist  exclusively  of  boys  ! 

But  these  modern  refinements  had  not  ob 
tained  currency,  at  the  period  of  which  we  are 
writing ;  nor  was  any  such  nonsense  the  motive 
to  the  introduction  of  female  teachers.  But 
one  of  the  lessons  learned  by  observation  of  the 
domestic  circle,  and  particularly  of  the  influ 
ence  of  the  mother  over  her  children,  was  the 
principle,  that  a  woman  can  teach  males  of  a 
certain  age  quite  as  well  as  a  man,  and  females 
much  better  ;  and  that,  since  the  school-teacher 
stands,  for  the  time  in  the  place  of  the  parent, 
a  mistress  was  far  more  desirable,  especially  for 
the  girls,  than  a  master.  Hence,  the  latter  had 
exercised  his  vocation  in  the  west,  but  a  few 
years,  before  he  was  followed  by  the  former. 

ISTew  England  was  the  great  nursery  of  this 
class,  as  it  was  of  so  many  others,  transplanted 
beyond  the  Alleganies.     Emigration,  and  the 
U* 


322  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

enticements  and  casualties  of  a  seafaring  life  — 
drawing  the  men  into  their  appropriate  chan 
nels  of  enterprise  and  adventure,  had  there  re 
duced  their  number  below  that  of  the  women — 
thus  remitting  many  of  the  latter,  to  other  than 
the  usual  and  natural  occupations  of  "  the  sex." 
Matrimony  became  a  remote  possibility  to  large 
numbers — attention  to  household  matters  gave 
place  to  various  kinds  of  light  labor  • — and,  since 
they  were  not  likely  to  have  progeny  of  their 
own  to  rear,  many  resorted  to  the  teaching  of 
children  belonging  to  others.  Idleness  was  a 
rare  vice;  and  New  England  girls — to  their 
honor  be  it  spoken  —  have  seldom  resembled 
"  the  lilies  of  the  field,"  in  aught,  save  the  fair 
ness  of  their  complexions !  They  have  never 
displayed  much  squeamishness — about  work  : 
and  if  they  could  not  benefit  the  rising  genera 
tion  in  a  maternal,  were  willing  to  make  them 
selves  useful  in  a  tutorial  capacity.  The  peo 
ple  of  that  enlightened  section,  have  always 
possessed  the  learning  necessary  to  appreciate, 
and  the  philanthropy  implied  in  the  wish  to 
dispel,  the  benighted  ignorance  of  all  other 
quarters  of  the  world ;  and  thus  a  competent 
number  of  them  have  ever  been  found  willing 
to  give  up  the  comforts  of  home,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  "  barbarous  west." 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  323 

The  schoolmistress,  then,  generally  came  from 
the  "cradle"  of  intelligence,  as  well  as  "of  lib 
erty,"  "beyond  the  Hudson ;  and,  in  the  true 
spirit  of  benevolence,  she  carried  her  blessings 
(herself  the  greatest)  across  the  mountain  bar 
rier,  to  bestow  them,  gratis,  upon  the  spiritual 
ly  and  materially  needy,  in  the  valley  of  the 
Mississippi.  Her  vocation,  or,  as  it  would  now 
be  called,  her  "  mission"  was  to  teach  an  im 
pulse  not  only  given  by  her  education,  but  be 
longing  to  her  nature.  She  had  a  constitutional 
tendency  toward  it — indeed,  a  genius  for  it; 
like  that  which  impels  one  to  painting,  another 
to  sculpture — this  to  a  learned  profession,  that 
to  a  mechanical  trade.  And  so  perfectly  was 
she  adapted  to  it,  that  "the  ignorant  people 
of  the  west"  not  recognising  her  "  divine  ap 
pointment,"  were  often  at  a  loss  to  conjecture, 
who,  or  whether  anybody,  could  have  taught 
her  ! 

For  that  same  "  ignorant,"  and  too  often,  un 
grateful  people,  she  was  full  of  tender  pity — 
the  yearning  of  the  single-hearted  missionary, 
for  the  welfare  of  his  flock.  They  were  steeped 
in  darkness,  but  she  carried  the  light — nay,  she 
was  the  light!  and  with  a  benignity,  often 
evinced  by  self-sacrifice  —  she  poured  it  gra 
ciously  over  the  land — 


324:  WESTEBN    CilAKAOTEIiS. 

"Heaven  doth   -with  UP,  as  \ve  with  torches  do: 
Not  light  them  for  themselves ;  for  if  our  virtues 
Did  not  go  forth  of  us,  't  were  all  alike 
As  if  we  had  them  not." 

For  the  good  of  the  race,  or  of  any  (male)  in 
dividual,  she  would  immolate  herself,  even  upon 
the  altar  of  Hymen ;  and,  since  the  number, 
who  were  to  be  benefited  by  such  self-devote- 
ment,  was  small  in  ISTew  England,  but  large  in 
the  west,  she  did  well  to  seek  a  field  for  her 
benign  dedication,  beyond  the  Alleganies! 
Honor  to  the  all-daring  self-denial,  which 
brought  to  the  forlorn  bachelor  of  the  west,  a 
companion  in  his  labors,  a  solace  in  his  afflic 
tions,  and  a  mother  to  his  children ! 

Her  name  was  invariably  Grace,  Charity,  or 
Prudence  ;  and,  if  names  had  been  always  de 
scriptive  of  the  personal  qualities  of  those  who 
bore  them,  she  would  have  been  entitled  to  all 
three. 

In  the  early  ages  of  the  world,  names  were, 
or,  at  least,  were  supposed  to  be,  fair  exponents 
of  the  personal  characters  of  those,  upon  whom 
they  were  bestowed.  But,  t7ien,  the  qualities 
must  be  manifested,  before  the  name  could  bo 
earned,  so  that  all  who  had  never  distinguished 
themselves,  in  some  way,  were  said  to  be 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS. 

"nameless."     In  more  modern  times,  however, 
an  improvement  upon  this  system  was  intro 
duced  :  the  character  was  anticipated,  and  pa 
rents  called  their    children  what  they  wished 
them  to  be,  in  the  hope  that  they  would  grow 
to  the  standard  thus  imposed.     And  it  is  no 
doubt,    true,    that  names   thus   bestowed   had 
much  influence  in  the  development  of  charac 
ter —  on  the  same  principle,  upon  which  the 
boards,  to  which  Indian  women  lash  their  infants 
soon  after  birth,  have  much  to  do  with  the  erect 
carriage  of  the  mature  savage.     Such  an  appel 
lation  is  a  perpetual  memento  of  parental  coun 
sels —  a  substitute  for  barren  precept — an  end 
less  exhortation  to  Grace,  Charity,  or  Prudence. 
I  do  not  mean,  that  calling  a  boy  Cicero  will 
certainly  make  him  an  orator,  or  that  all  Jere 
miahs  are  necessarily  prophets ;  nor  is  it  im 
probable,  that  the   same  peculiarities   in  the 
parents,  which  dictate  these  expressive  names, 
may  direct  the  characters  of  the  children,  by 
controlling  their  education ;  but  it  is  unques 
tionable,  that  the  characteristics,  and  even  the 
fortunes  of  the  man,  are  frequently  daguerreo- 
typed  by  a  name  given  in  infancy.     There  is 
not  a  little  wisdom  in  the  advice  of  Sterne  to 
godfathers — not  "to  Nicodemus   a  man  into 
nothing." — "Harsh  names,"  says  D'Israeli,  the 


326  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

elder, "  will  have,  in  spite  of  all  our  philosophy, 
a  painful  and  ludicrous  effect  on  our  ears  and 
our  associations ;  it  is  vexatious,  that  the  soft 
ness  of  delicious  vowels,  or  the  ruggedness  of 
inexorable  consonants,  should  at  all  be  connect 
ed  with  a  man's  happiness,  or  even  have  an  in 
fluence  on  his  fortune." 

"  That  which  we  call  a  rose, 
By  any  other  name  would  smell  as  sweet ;" 

but  this  does  not  touch  the  question,  whether, 
if  it  had  not  smelt  as  sweet  we  would  not  have 
given  it  some  other  name.  The  celebrated 
demagogue,  "Wilkes,  is  reported  to  have  said, 
that,  "  without  knowing  the  comparative  mer 
its  of  the  two  poets,  we  would  have  no  hesita 
tion  in  preferring  John  Dryden  to  Elkanah  Set- 
tie,  from  the  names  only?  And  the  reason  of 
this  truth  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  our 
impressions  of  both  men  and  things  depend  upon 
associations,  often  beyond  our  penetration  to  de 
tect —  associations  with  which  sound,  depending 
on  hidden  laws,  has  quite  as  much  to  do,  as  sense. 

Among  those  who  have  carried  the  custom 
of  picturesque  or  expressive  naming,  to  an  ex 
tent  bordering  on  the  ridiculous,  were  the  hard- 
headed  champions  of  the  true  church-militant, 
the  English  puritans — as  Hume,  the  bigoted 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  327 

old  tory,  rather  ill-naturedly  testifies !  And  the 
puritans  of  New  England  —  whatever  advan 
cing  intelligence  may  have  made  them  in  the 
present — were,  for  a  long  time,  faithful  repre 
sentatives  of  the  oddities,  as  well  as  of  the  vir 
tues,  of  their  fathers. 

And,  accordingly,  we  find  the  schoolmistress 
— being  a  descendent  of  the  Jason's-crew,  who 
landed  from  the  Argo-Mayflower,  usually  bear 
ing  a  name  thus  significant,  and  manifesting, 
even  at  her  age,  traits  of  character  justifying 
the  compellation.  What  that  age  precisely  was, 
could  not  always  be  known ;  indeed,  a  lady's 
age  is  generally  among  indeterminate  things ; 
and  it  has,  very  properly,  come  to  be  consid 
ered  ungallant,  if  not  impertinent,  to  be  curious 
upon  so  delicate  a  subject.  A  man  has  no  more 
right  to  know  how  many  years  a  woman  has, 
than  how  many  skirts  she  wears ;  and,  if  he  have 
any  anxiety  about  the  matter,  in  either  case, 
his  eyes  must  be  the  only  questioners.  The 
principle  upon  which  the  women  themselves 
proceed,  in  growing  old,  seems  to  be  parallel 
to  the  law  of  gravitation :  when  a  storm,  for 
example,  is  thrown  into,  the  air  the  higher  it 
goes  the  slower  it  travels  ;  and  the  momentum 
toward  Heaven,  given  to  a  woman  at  her  birth, 
appears  to  decrease  in  about  the  same  ratio. 


328  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

We  will  not  be  so  ungallant,  then,  as  to  in 
quire  too  curiously  into  the  age  of  the  school 
mistress  ;  but,  without  disparagement  to  her 
youthfulness,  we  may  be  allowed  to  conjecture 
that,  in  order  to  fit  her  so  well  for  the  duties 
of  her  responsible  station  (and  incline  her  to 
undertake  such  labors),  a  goodly  number  of 
years  must  needs  have  been  required.  Yet  she 
bore  time  well ;  for,  unless  married  in  the  mean 
while,  at  thirty,  she  was  as  youthful  in  man 
ners,  as  at  eighteen. 

But  this  is  not  surprising :  for,  even  as  early 
as  her  twelfth  year,  she  had  much  the  appear 
ance  of  a  mature  woman  —  something  like  that 
noticed  in  young  quakers,  by  Clarkson* — and 
her  figure  belonged  to  that  rugged  type,  which 
is  adapted  to  bear,  unscathed,  more  than  the 
ravages  of  time.  She  was  never  above  the  me 
dium  height,  for  the  rigid  rule  of  economy 
seemed  to  apply  to  flesh  and  blood,  as  to  all 
other  things  pertaining  to  her  race  ;  at  all  events, 
material  had  not  been  wasted  in  giving  her  ex 
tra  longitude  —  at  the  ends.  Between  the  ex 
tremities,  it  might  be  different — for  she  was 
generally  very  long-waisted.  But  this  might 
be  accounted  for  in  the  process  of  flattening 

*  Author  of  the  Life  of  William  Perm,  whose  accuracy  has 
lately  been  questioned. 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  329 

out:  for  like  her  compeer,  the  schoolmaster, 
she  had  much  more  breadth  than  thickness. 
She  was  somewhat  angular,  of  course,  and  rath 
er  bony ;  hut  this  was  only  the  natural  corre 
spondence,  between  the  external  development, 
and  the  mental  and  moral  organization.  Her 
eyes  were  usually  blue,  and,  to  speak  with  ac 
curacy,  a  little  cold  and  grayish,  in  their  expres 
sion —  like  the  sky  on  a  bleak  morning  in  Au 
tumn.  Her  forehead  was  very  high  and  prom 
inent,  having,  indeed,  an  exposed  look,  like  a 
shelterless  knoll  in  an  open  prairie :  but,  not 
content  with  this,  though  the  hair  above  it  was 
often  thin,  she  usually  dragged  the  latter  forci 
bly  back,  as  if  to  increase  the  altitude  of  the 
former,  by  extending  the  skin.  Her  mouth 
was  of  that  class  called  "primped,"  but  was 
filled  with  teeth  of  respectable  dimensions. 

Her  arms  were  long,  and,  indeed,  a  little 
skinny,  and  she  swung  them  very  freely  when 
she  walked  ;  while  hands,  of  no  insignificant 
size,  dangled  at  the  extremities,  as  if  the  joints 
of  her  wrists  were  insecure.  She  had  large 
feet,  too,  and  in  walking  her  toes  were  assidu 
ously  turned  out.  She  had,  however,  almost 
always  one  very  great  attraction  —  a  fine,  clear, 
healthy  complexion' — and  the  only  blemishes 
upon  this,  that  I  have  ever  observed,  were  a 


330  WESTERN   CHAEACTEES. 

little  red  on  the  tip  of  her  nose  and  on  the  points 
of  her  cbeek-bones,  and  a  good  deal  of  down  on 
her  upper  lip. 

In  manners  and  bearing,  she  was  brisk,  prim, 
and  sometimes  a  little  "fidgety,"  as  if  she  was 
conscious  of  sitting  on  a  dusty  chair  ;  and  she 
had  a  way  of  searching  nervously  for  her  pocket, 
as  if  to  find  a  handkerchief  with  which  to  brush 
it  off.  She  was  a  very  fast  walker,  and  an 
equally  rapid  talker  —  taking  usually  very  short 
steps,  as  if  afraid  of  splitting  economical  skirts, 
but  using  very  long  words,  as  if  entertaining  no 
such  apprehension  about  her  throat.  Her  gait 
was  too  rapid  to  be  graceful,  and  her  voice  too 
sharp  to  be  musical  ;  but  she  was  quite  un 
conscious  of  these  imperfections,  especially  of 
the  latter  :  for  at  church  —  I  beg  pardon  of  her 
enlightened  ancestors  !  I  should  say  at  "  meet 
ing"  —  her  notes  of  praise  were  heard  high  over 
all  the  tumult  of  primitive  singing  ;  and,  with 
her  chin  thrown  out,  and  her  shoulders  drawn 
back,  she  looked,  as  well  as  sounded,  the  imper 
sonation  of  melody,  as  contra-distinguished  from 


But  postponing,  for  the  present,  our  considera 
tion  of  her  qualifications  as  a  teacher,  we  find 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  331 

that  her  characteristics  were  still  more  respecta 
ble  and  valuable  as  a  private  member  of  society. 
And  in  this  relation,  her  most  prominent  trait, 
like  that  of  her  brother  teacher,  was  her  stain 
less  piety.  In  this  respect,  if  in  no  other, 
women  are  always  more  sincere  and  single- 
hearted  than  men — perhaps  because  the  dis 
tribution  of  social  duties  gives  her  less  temp 
tation  to  hypocrisy — and  even  the  worldly, 
strong-minded,  and  self-reliant  daughter  of  the 
church-hating  Puritan-Zion,  displayed  a  ten 
dency  toward  genuine  religious  feeling.* 

But  in  our  subject,  this  was  not  a  mere  bias, 
but  a  constant,  unflagging  sentiment,  an  every 
day  manifestation.  She  was  as  warm  in  the 
cause  of  religion  on  one  day  as  upon  another, 
in  small  things  as  in  great — as  zealous  in  the 
repression  of  all  unbecoming  and  ungodly  levity, 
as  in  the  eradication  of  positive  vice.  Life  was 
too  solemn  a  thing  with  her  to  admit  of  thought 
less  amusements — it  was  entirely  a  state  of 
probation,  not  to  be  enjoyed  in  itself,  or  for 
itself,  but  purgatorial,  remedial,  and  prepara- 

*  By  this  form  of  expression,  which  may  seem  awkward,  I 
mean  to  convey  this  idea  :  That  consistency  of  character  would 
seem  to  preclude  any  heartfelt  reverence 'in  the  descendant  of 
those  whose  piety  was  manifested  more  in  the  hatred  of  earthly, 
than  in.  the  love  of  heavenly,  things. 


332  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

tory.  She  hated  all  devices  of  pleasure  as  her 
ancestors  did  the  abominations  of  popery.  A 
fiddle  she  could  tolerate  only  in  the  shape  of  a 
bass-viol  ;  and  dancing,  if  practised  at  all,  must 
be  called  "  calisthenics."  The  drama  was  to 
her  an  invention  of  the  Enemy  of  Souls  —  and 
if  she  ever  saw  a  play,  it  must  be  at  a  museum, 
and  not  within  the  walls  of  that  temple  of  Baal, 
the  theatre.  None  but  "  serious"  conversation 
was  allowable,  and  a  hearty  laugh  was  the  ex 
pression  of  a  spirit  ripe  for  the  destination  of 
unforgiven  sinners. 

Errors  in  religion  were  too  tremendous  to  be 
tolerated  for  a  moment,  and  the  form  (or  rather 
anti-form)  of  worship  handed  down  by  her 
fathers,  had  cost  too  much  blood  and  crime  to 
be  oppugned.  She  thought  Barebones's  the 
only  godly  parliament  that  ever  sat,  and  did  not 
hate  Hume  half  so  much  for  his  infidelity,  as 
for  his  ridicule  of  the  roundheads.  Her  list  of 
martyrs  was  made  up  of  the  intruders  ousted 
tiy  Charles's  "  Act  of  Conformity,"  and  her 
catalogue  of  saints  was  headed  by  the  witch- 
boilers  of  Massachusetts  bay.  She  abhorred  the 
memory  of  all  popish  persecutions,  and  knew 
no  difference  between  catholic  and  cannibal. 
Her  running  calendar  of  living  saints  were  born 
"  to  inherit  the  earth,"  and  heaven,  too :  they 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  333 

possessed  a  monopoly  of  all  truth,  an  unlimited 
"indulgence"  to  enforce  conformity,  and,  in 
their  zeal,  an  infallible  safeguard  against  the 
commission  of  error.  She  had  no  patience  with 
those  who  could  not  "  see  the  truth ;"  and  he 
who  reviled  the  puritan  mode  of  worship,  was 
"  worse  than  the  infidel."  The  only  argument 
she  ever  used  with  such,  was  the  argumentum 
ad  hominem,  which  saves  the  trouble  of  con 
viction  by  "  giving  over  to  hardness  of  heart." 
New  England  was,  to  her,  the  land  of  Goslien 
—  whither  God's  people  had  been  led  by  God's 
hand  —  "the  land  of  the  patriarchs,  where  it 
rains  righteousness"*  —  and  all  the  adjacent 
country  was  a  land  of  Egyptian  darkness. 

She  wTas  commendably  prudent  in  her  personal 
deportment :  being  thoroughly  pure  and  cir 
cumspect  herself,  she  could  forgive  no  thought 
less  imprudence  in  her  sister- woman :  but  she 
well-understood  metaphysical  distinctions,  and 
was  tolerant,  if  not  liberal,  to  marriageable  men. 
These  she  could  hope  to  reform  at  some  future 
time  :  and  she  had,  moreover,  a  just  idea  of  the 
weakness  of  man's  nature.  But  being  a  woman, 
and  a  staid  and  sober-minded  woman,  she  could 

*  The  language  of  a  precious  pamphlet,  even  now  in  circula 
tion  in  the  west. 


334  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

never  understand  the  power  of  temptation  upon 
her  own  sex,  or  the  commonest  impulses  of  high 
spirits.  Perhaps  she  was  a  little  deficient  in 
charity  :  but,  as  we  have  seen,  it  was  chiefly 
toward  her  female  friends,  and  since  none  can 
bear  severe  judgment  more  safely  than  woman, 
her  austerity  did  little  harm. 

Bat  she  sincerely  regretted  what  she  could 
never  palliate  ;  she  hated  not  the  guilty,  though 
she  could  not  forgive  the  sin ;  and  no  one  was 
more  easily  melted  to  tears  by  the  faults,  and 
particularly  by  the  follies,  of  the  world.  Wick 
edness  is  a  very  melancholy  thing,  but  it  is  to 
be  punished  as  well  as  lamented :  and  like  the 
unfortunate  governor  who  was  forced  to  con 
demn  his  own  son,  she  wept  while  she  pro 
nounced  judgment.  But  earthly  sorrow,  by 
her,  was  given  only  to  earthly  faults  :  violations 
of  simple  good  morals,  crimes  against  heavenly 
creeds  and  forms  (or  rather  the  form)  of  worship, 
claimed  no  tear.  Her  blood  rose  to  fever-heat 
at  the  mention  of  an  unbeliever,  and  she  would 
as  soon  have  wept  for  the  errors  of  the  fallen 
angels,  as  for  those  of  anti-Robinsonians. 

But  though  thus  rigid  and  austere,  I  never 
heard  that  she  was  at  all  disinclined  to  being 
courted  :  especially  if  it  gave  her  any  prospect 


THE    SCHOOLMISTRESS.  335 

of  being  able  to  make  herself  useful  as  a  wife, 
either  to  herself,  her  husband,  or  her  country. 
She  understood  the  art  of  rearing  and  managing 
children,  in  her  capacity  as  a  teacher :  she 
was  thus  peculiarly  well-fitted  for  matrimonial 
duties,  and  was  unwilling  that  the  world  should 
lose  the  benefit  of  her  talents.  But  the  man 
who  courted  her  must  do  so  in  the  most  sober, 
staid,  and  regulated  spirit,  for  it  was  seldom  any 
unmixed  romance  about  "  love  and  nonsense," 
which  moved  her  to  the  sacrifice  :  if  she  enter 
tained  notions  of  that  sort,  they  were  such  only 
as  could  find  a  place  in  her  well-balanced  mind, 
and,  above  all,  were  the  subject  of  no  raptures 
or  transports  of  delight.  If  she  indulged  any 
enthusiasm,  in  view  of  the  approaching  change, 
it  was  in  the  prospect  of  endless  shirt-making, 
and  in  calculations  about  how  cheaply  (not  how 
happily)  she  could  enable  her  husband  to  live. 
She  had  no  squeamish  delicacy  about  allowing 
the  world  to  know  the  scope  and  meaning  of 
her  arrangements,  and  all  her  friends  partici 
pated  in  her  visions  of  comfort  and  economy. 
False  modesty  was  no  part  of  her  nature  —  and 
her  sentiment  could  be  reduced  to  an  algebraic 
formula  —  excluding  the  "  unknown  quantities" 
usually  represented  by  the  letters  5,  #,  and  d  : 
meaning  "  bliss,"  "  cottages,"  and  "  devotion." 


336  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Yet,  though  she  cared  little  for  poetry,  and 
seldom  understood  the  images  of  fancy,  she  was 
not  averse  to  -a  modicum  of  scandal  in  moments 
of  relaxation  :  for  the  faults  of  others  were  the 
illustrations  of  her  prudent  maxims,  and  the 
thoughtlessness  of  a  sister  was  the  best  possible 
text  for  a  moral  homily.  The  tense  rigidity  of 
her  character,  too,  sometimes  required  a  little 
unbending,  and  she  had,  therefore,  no  special 
aversion  to  an  occasional  surreptitious  novel. 
But  this  she  would  indulge  only  in  private ;  for 
in  her  mind,  the  worst  quality  of  transgression 
was  its  bad  example  ;  and  she  never  failed,  in 
public,  to  condemn  all  such  things  with  be 
coming  and  virtuous  severity.  Nor  must  this 
apparent  inconsistency  be  construed  to  her  dis 
advantage  ;  for  her  strong  mind  and  well-forti 
fied  morals,  could  withstand  safely  what  would 
have  corrupted  a  large  majority  of  those  around 
her  ;  and  it  was  meet,  that  one  whose  "  mission" 
it  was  to  reform,  should  thoroughly  understand 
the  enemy  against  which  she  battled.  And 
these  things  never  unfavorably  affected  her  life 
and  manners,  for  she  was  as  prudent  in  her  de 
portment  (ill-natured  people  say  prudish)  as  if 
some  ancestress  of  hers  had  been  deceived,  and 
left  in  the  family  a  tradition  of  man's  perfidy 
and  woman's  frailty. 


THE    SCHOOLMISTRESS.  337 

She  was  careful,  then,  of  three  things  —  her 
clothes,  her  money,  and  her  reputation  :  and,  to 
do  her  justice,  the  last  was  as  spotless  as  the 
first,  and  as  much  prized  as  the  second,  and  that 
is  saying  a  good  deal,  both  for  its  purity  and 
estimation.  Neat,  economical,  and  prudent, 
were,  indeed,  the  three  capital  adjectives  of  her 
vocabulary,  and  to  deserve  them  was  her 
eleventh  commandment. 

With  one  exception,  these  were  the  texts  of 
all  her  homilies,  and  the  exception  was,  un 
luckily,  one  which  admitted  of  much  more 
argument. 

It  was  the  history  of  the  puritans.  But  upon 
this  subject,  she  was  as  dexterous  a  special 
pleader  as  Neale,  and  as  skilful,  in  giving  a 
false  coloring  to  facts,  as  D'Aubigne.  But  she 
had  the  advantage  of  these  worthies  in  that  her 
declamation  was  quite  honest:  she  had  been 
taught  sincerely  and  heartily  to  believe  all  she 
asserted.  She  was  of  the  opinion  that  but  two 
respectable  ships  had  been  set  afloat  since  the 
world  began :  one  of  which  was  Noah's  ark, 
and  the  other  the  Mayflower.  She  believed 
that  no  people  had  ever  endured  such  persecu 
tions  as  the  puritans,  and  was  especially  eloquent 
upon  the  subject  of  "  New  England's  Blarney- 
Btoiie,"  the  Rock  of  Plymouth. 
15 


338  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Indeed,  according  to  the  creed  of  her  people, 
historical  and  religious,  this  is  the  only  piece  of 
granite  in  the  whole  world  "  worth  speaking  of;'7 
and  geologists  have  sadly  wasted  their  time  in 
travelling  over  the  world  in  search  of  the  records 
of  creation,  when  a  full  epitome  of  everything 
deserving  to  be  known,  existed  in  so  small  a 
space !  All  the  other  rocks  of  the  earth  sink 
into  insignificance,  and  "  hide  their  diminished 
heads,"  when  compared  to  this  mighty  stoue ! 
The  Rock  of  Leucas,  from  which  the  amorous 
Lesbian  maid  cast  herself  disconsolate  into  the 
sea,  is  a  mere  pile  of  dirt :  the  Tarpeian,  whence 
the  Law  went  forth  to  the  whole  world  for  so 
many  centuries,  is  not  fit  to  be  mentioned  in  the 
same  day  :  the  Rock  of  Cash  el,  itself,  is  but  the 
subject  of  profane  Milesian  oaths ;  and  the 
Ledge  of  Plymouth  is  the  real  "  Rock  of  Ages !" 
It  is  well  that  every  people  should  have  some 
thing  to  adore,  especially  if  that  "  something" 
belongs  exclusively  to  themselves.  It  elevates 
their  self-respect :  and,  for  this  object,  even  his 
torical  fictions  may  be  forgiven. 

But,  as  we  have  intimated,  in  the  course  of 
time  the  schoolmistress  became  a  married 
woman ;  and  as  she  gathered  experience,  she 
gradually  learned  that  New  England  is  not  the 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS.  339 

I  i 

whole  "  moral  vineyard,"  and  that  one  might 
be  more  profitably  employed  than  in  disputing 
about  questionable  points  of  history.  New 
duties  devolved  upon  her,  and  new  responsi 
bilities  rained  fast.  Instead  of  teaching  the 
children  of  other  people,  she  now  raised  chil 
dren  for  other  people  to  teach.  New  sources  of 
pride  were  found  in  these,  and  in  her  husband 
and  his  prosperity.  She  discovered  that  she 
could  be  religious  without  bigotry,  modest 
without  prudery,  and  economical  without  mean 
ness  :  and,  profiting  by  the  lessons  thus  learned, 
she  subsided  into  a  true,  faithful,  and  respectable 
matron,  thus,  at  last,  fulfilling  her  genuine 
"  mission." 


X. 

THE  POLITICIAN. 


'  All  would  be  deemed,  e'en  from  the  cradle,  fit 
To  rule  in  politics  as  well  as  wit : 
The  grave,  the  gay,  the  fopling,  and  the  dunce, 
Start  up  (God  bless  us  1)  statesmen  all  at  once  I" 

CHURCHILL. 


IN  a  country  where  the  popular  breath  sways 
men  to  its  purposes  or  caprices,  as  the  wind 
bends  the  weeds  in  a  meadow,  statesmanship 
may  become  a  system,  but  can  never  rise  to  the 
dignity  of  a  science  /  and  politics,  instead  of 
being  an  art,  is  a  series  of  arts. 

A  system  is  order  without  principle  :  a  science 
is  order,  based  upon  principle.  Statesmanship 
has  to  do  with  generalities — with  the  relations 
of  states,  the  exposition  and  preservation  of  con 
stitutional  provisions,  and  with  fundamental 
organizations.  Politics  relates  to  measures,  and 
the  details  of  legislation.  The  art  of  governing 
is  the  accomplishment  of  the  true  politician : 


THE   POLITICIAN.  341 

the  arts  of  governing  are  the  trickeries  of  the 
demagogue.  Right  is  the  key-note  of  one: 
popularity  of  the  other. 

The  large  majority  of  men  are  sufficiently 
candid  to  acknowledge  —  at  least  to  themselves 
—  that  they  are  unfit  for  the  station  of  lawgiver ; 
but  the  vanity  and  jealousy  begotten  by  par 
ticipation  in  political  power,  lead  many  of  them, 
if  not  actually  to  believe,  at  all  events  to  act 
upon  the  faith,  that  men,  no  more  able  than 
themselves,  are  the  best  material  for  rulers.  It 
is* a  land  of  compromise  between  their  modesty 
and  self-love :  not  burthening  them  with  the 
trials  and  responsibilities  of  positions  for  which 
they  feel  incompetent,  but  soothing  their  vanity 
by  the  contemplation  of  office-holders  not  at  all 
their  superiors.  Below  a  certain  (or  uncertain) 
grade,  therefore,  political  stations  are  usually 
filled  by  men  of  very  moderate  abilities :  and 
their  elevation  is  favored — indeed,  often  effect 
ed — by  the  very  causes  which  should  prevent 
it.  Such  men  are  prone  to  thrust  themselves 
upon  public  notice,  and  thus  secure,  by  persist 
ence  and  impudence,  what  might  not  be  awarded 
them  on  the  score  of  merit. 

It  is  a  trite  remark,  that  people  are  inclined 
to  accept  a  man's  estimate  of  himself,  and  to 


342  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

put  him  in  possession  of  that  place,  in  their  con 
sideration,  which  he  has  the  hardihood  to  claim. 
And  the  observation  is  just,  to  this  extent:  if 
the  individual  does  not  respect  himself,  probably 
no  one  else'  will  take  that  trouble.  But  in  a 
country  where  universal  suffrage  reigns,  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  the  elevation  of  an  ordinary 
man  indicates  any  recognition  of  the  justice  of 
his  claims.  On  the  contrary,  they  may  be  en 
dorsed  precisely  because  they  are  false  :  that  is, 
because  he  really  possesses  no  other  title  to  the 
support  of  common  men,  than  that  which  is 
founded  upon  fellow-feeling  or  sympathy  of 
character.  Many  a  man,  therefore,  who  re 
ceives  his  election  as  a  compliment  from  the 
voters,  if  he  understood  the  motives  of  their 
action,  would  throw  up  his  office  in  disgust ;  for 
in  a  large  majority  of  cases,  the  popular  choice, 
so  far  from  being  an  assertion  of  the  candidate's 
peculiar  fitness  to  be  singled  out  from  among 
his  brethren,  is  only  a  declaration  that  neither 
talent  nor  character  entitles  him  to  the  dis 
tinction.  The  cry  that  a  man  is  "  one  of  the 
people,"  will  bring  him  great  strength  at  the 
ballot-box :  but  this  is  a  phrase  which  means 
very  different  things,  according  as  it  is  used  by 
the  candidate  or  the  voter;  and,  in  many  cases, 
if  they  could  thoroughly  understand  each  other, 


THE    POLITICIAN.  343 

the  latter  would  not  give  his  support,  and  the 
former  would  not  ask  it. 

These  remarks  are  applicable  to  all  stages  of 
society's  progress ;  for,  if  the  world  were  so  en 
lightened,  that,  in  the  scale  of  intellect,  such  a 
man  as  Daniel  Webster  could  only  be  classed 
as  an  idiot,  there  would  still  be  the  "  ignorant 
vulgar,"  the  "  uneducated  classes."  Society 
is  one  entire  web  —  albeit  woven  with  threads 
of  wool  and  silk,  of  silver  and  gold  :  turn  it  as 
you  will,  it  must  all  turn  together ;  and  if  a 
whirlwind  of  enlightenment  should  waft  it  to 
the  skies,  although  each  thread  would  be  im 
measurably  above  its  present  condition,  the 
relation  of  one  to  another  would  still  be  the 
same.  If  the  baser  wool  should  be  transmuted 
into  gold,  the  very  same  process  would  refine 
and  sublimate  the  precious  metal,  in  a  corre 
sponding  ratio  ;  and  the  equilibrium  of  God's 
appointed  relations  would  remain  undisturbed. 

But  it  is  more  especially  in  the  primitive 
periods,  before  the  great  political  truths  be 
come  household  words,  and  while  the  reign  of 
law  and  municipal  organization  is  a  vague  and 
distant  thing,  that  most  citizens  shrink  from 
official  duties.  Diffidence,  in  this  matter  is, 


344  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

fortunately,  a  disease  wliicli  time  will  alleviate 
—  a  youthful  weakness,  which  communities 
"  outgrow,"  as  children  do  physical  defects  ; 
and,  I  believe,  of  late  years,  few  offices  have 
"  gone  begging,"  either  east  or  west  of  the  great 
barrier  of  the  Allegany. 

In  the  earlier  periods  of  its  history,  we  have 
seen  that  the  western  country  was  peculiarly 
situated.  The  settlements  were  weak  and  the 
population  small ;  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
narrow  fields,  in  the  vicinity  of  each  frontier 
fort,  or  stockade,  the  land  was  a  wilderness,  held 
in  undisturbed  possession  by  the  savages  and 
wild  beasts.  The  great  struggle,  which  we  call 
the  Revolution,  but  which  wras,  in  fact,  only  a 
justifiable  and  successful  rebellion,  had  ex 
hausted  the  force  and  drained  the  coffers  of  the 
feeble  federal  government;  had  plunged  the 
infant  states  into  enormous  debts ;  and  the  only 
means  of  paying  these  were  the  boundless  but 
unclaimed  lands  of  the  west,  which  the  same 
causes  rendered  them  unable  to  protect.  The 
scattered  settlements  on  the  Mississippi  side  of 
the  Alleganies,  were  thus  left  to  their  own 
scanty  resources ;  and  the  distance  was  so 
great,  that,  had  the  older  states  been  able  to 
afford  assistance,  the  delays  and  losses  attendant 
upon  its  transmission  across  so  wide  a  tract  of 


THE   POLITICIAN.  345 

wilderness,  would  Lave  made  it  almost  nuga 
tory. 

In  those  times,  therefore,  though  a  few  were 
looking  forward  to  separate  political  organiza 
tion  and  the  erection  of  new  states,  the  larger 
number  of  the  western  people  were  too  con 
stantly  occupied  with  their  defence,  to  give 
much  attention  to  internal  politics.  Such  or 
ganization  as  they  had  was  military,  or  pa 
triarchal  :  the  early  pioneer,  who  had  dis 
tinguished  himself  in  the  first  explorations  of 
the  country,  or  by  successfully  leading  and 
establishing  a  new  settlement,  as  he  became  the 
commander  of  the  local  fort,  was  also  the  law 
giver  of  the  community.  The  pressure  of  ex 
ternal  danger  was  too  close  to  allow  a  very 
liberal  democracy  in  government;  and,  as  must 
be  the  case  in  all  primitive  assemblages  of  men, 
the  counsels  and  commands  of  him  whom  they 
knew  to  be  the  most  able,  were  always  observed. 
He  who  had  proven  himself  competent  to  lead 
was,  therefore,  the  leader  ipso  facto  and  de 
jure  j  and  the  evidence  required  was  the  per 
formance  of  such  exploits,  and  the  display  of 
such  courage  and  sagacity,  as  were  necessary 
to  the  defence,  well-being,  and  protection  of 
the  community. 

It  is  obvious  that  no  mere  pretender  could 
15* 


346  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

exhibit  these  proofs  ;  and  that,  where  they  were 
taken  as  the  sole  measure  of  a  man's  worth, 
dexterity  with  a  rifle  must  be  of  more  value 
than  the  accomplishments  of  a  talker  —  Indian- 
fighting  a  more  respectable  occupation  than 
speech-making.  Small  politicians  were,  there 
fore,  very  small  men,  and  saying  that  one  had 
"  a  turn  for  politics,"  would  have  been  equiva 
lent  to  calling  him  a  vagabond.  The  people 
had  neither  time  nor  patience  to  listen  to  decla 
mation  —  the  man  who  rose  in  a  public  assembly, 
and  called  upon  his  neighbors  to  follow  him  in 
avenging  a  wrong,  made  the  only  speech  they 
cared  to  hear.  "  Preambles  and  resolutions" 
were  unmeaning  formalities  —  their  "resolu 
tions"  were  taken  in  their  own  minds,  and,  to 
use  their  own  expressive  words,  they  executed 
them  "  without  preamble."  An  ounce  of  lead 
was  worth  more  than  a  pound  of  advice ;  and, 
in  the  vindication  of  justice,  a  "  charge"  of  gun 
powder  was  more  effectual  than  the  most  tedious 
judicial  harangue.  It  is,  even  now,  a  proud, 
but  well-founded  boast,  of  western  men,  that 
these  traits  have  been  transmitted  to  them  from 
their  fathers  —  that  they  are  more  remarkable 
for  fighting  than  for  wrangling,  for  acting  than 
for  talking. 

In  such  a  state  of  society,  civil  offices  existed 


THE    POLITICIAN.  347 

scarcely  in  name,  and  were  never  very  eagerly 
sought.  That  which  makes  official  station  de 
sirable  is  obedience  to  its  authority,  and  if  the 
title  of  "  captain"  gave  the  idea  of  more  abso 
lute  power  than  that  of  "  sheriff,"  one  would 
rather  command  a  company  of  militia  than  the 
"posse  comitatus"  Besides,  the  men  of  the 
frontier  were  simple-hearted  and  unambitious, 
desiring  nothing  so  much  as  to  be  "left  alone," 
and  willing  to  make  a  compact  of  forbearance 
with  the  whole  world  —  excepting  only  the  In 
dians.  They  had  never  been  accustomed  to  the 
restraints  of  municipal  regulations,  they  were 
innocent  of  the  unhealthy  pleasures  of  office- 
holding,  or  the  degrading  impulses  of  office- 
seeking.  Their  lives  had  given  them  little  or  no 
knowledge  of  these  things ;  experience  had  never 
suggested  their  importance,  for  their  acquaint 
ance  with  life  was,  almost  exclusively,  such  as 
could  be  acquired  in  the  woods  and  forest 
pathways. 

But  as  time  rolled  away,  and  the  population 
of  the  country  became  more  dense — as  the 
pressure  of  external  danger  was  withdrawn,  and 
the  necessities  of  defence  grew  less  urgent — 
the  rigor  of  military  organization  came  gradu 
ally  to  be  somewhat  irksome.  The  seeds  of 
civil  institutions  began  to  germinate  among  the 


3-iS  i      WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

people,  while  the  extending  interests  of  com 
munities  required  corresponding  enactments  and 
regulations.  The  instincts  of  social  beings,  love 
of  home  and  family,  attachment  to  property,  the 
desire  of  tranquillity,  and,  perhaps,  a  leaven  of 
ambition  for  good  estimation  among  neighbors, 
all  combined  to  open  men's  eyes  to  the  import 
ance  of  peaceful  institutions.  The  day  of  the 
rifle  and  scalping-knife  passed  away,  and  justice 
without  form  —  the  rule  of  the  elementary 
strong-hand  —  gave  place  to  order  and  legal 
ceremony. 

Then  first  began  to  appear  the  class  of  poli 
ticians,  though,  as  yet,  office-seeking  had  not 
become  a  trade,  nor  office-holding  a  regular 
means  of  livelihood.  Politics  bad  not  acquired 
a  place  among  the  arts,  nor  had  its  professors 
become  the  teachers  of  the  land.  There  were 
few,  indeed,  who  sought  to  fill  civil  stations ; 
and,  although  men's  qualifications  for  office 
were,  probably,  not  any  more  rigidly  examined 
then  than  now,  those  who  possessed  the  due 
degree  of  prominence,  either  deemed  them 
selves,  or  were  believed  by  their  fellow-citizens, 
peculiarly  capable  of  discharging  such  functions. 
They  were  generally  men  who  had  made  them 
selves  conspicuous  or  useful  in  other  capacities 


THE   POLITICIAN.  349 

—  who  had  become  well  or  favorably  known  to 
their  neighbors  through  their  zeal,  courage, 
sagacity,  or  public  spirit.  A  leader  of  regula 
tors,  for  example,  whose  administration  of  his 
dangerous  powers  had  been  marked  by  prompti 
tude  and  severity,  was  expected  to  be  equally 
efficient  when  clothed  with  more  regular  au 
thority.  A  captain  of  rangers,  whose  enter 
prises  had  been  remarkable  for  certainty  and 
finish,  would,  it  was  believed,  do  quite  as  good 
service,  in  the  capacity  of  a  civil  officer.  A 
daring  pioneer,  whose  courage  or  presence  of 
mind  had  saved  himself  and  others  from  the 
dangers  of  the  wilderness,  was  supposed  to  be 
an  equally  sure  guide  in  the  pathless  ways  of 
politics.  Lawyers  were  yet  few,  and  not  of 
much  repute,  for  they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
youthful  adventurers,  who  had  come  into  the 
field  long  before  the  ripening  of  the  harvest. 

There  was  another  class,  whose  members  held 
prominent  positions,  though  they  had  never 
been  distinguished  for  the  possession  of  any  of 
the  qualifications  above  enumerated.  These 
might  be  designated  as  the  noisy  sort  —  loud- 
talking,  wise-looking  men,  self-constituted  ora 
cles  and  advice-givers,  with  a  better  opinion  of 
their  own  wisdom  than  any  one  else  was  willing 


350  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

to  endorse.  Such  men  became  "file-leaders," 
or  "pivot-men,"  because  the  taciturn  people  of 
the  west,  though  inclined  to  undervalue  a  mere 
talker,  were  simple-minded  enough  to  accept  a 
man's  valuation  of  his  own  powers  :  or  easy- 
tempered  enough  to  spare  themselves  the  trouble 
of  investigating  so  small  a  matter.  It  was  of 
little  consequence  to  them,  whether  the  candi 
date  was  as  wise  as  he  desired  to  be  thought ; 
and  since,  in  political  affairs,  they  knew  of  no 
interest  which  they  could  have  in  disputing  it, 
for  his  gratification  they  were  willing  to  admit 
it.  These  were  halcyon  days  for  mere  pre 
tenders —  though  for  no  very  flattering  reason  : 
since  their  claims  were  allowed  chiefly  because 
they  were  not  deemed  worth  controverting. 
Those  days,  thanks  to  the  "  progress  of  intelli 
gence  !"  are  now  gone  by  :  the  people  are  better 
acquainted  with  the  natural  history  of  such 
animals,  and  —  witness,  ye  balls  of  Congress  !  — 
none  may  now  hold  office  except  capable,  pa 
triotic,  and  disinterested  men ! 

Nor  must  we  be  understood  to  assert  that  the 
primitive  politician  was  the  reverse  of  all  this, 
save  in  the  matter  of  capability.  And,  even  in 
that  particular,  no  conception  of  his  deficiency 
ever  glimmered  in  his  consciousness.  His  own 
assumption,  and  the  complaisance  of  his  fellow- 


THE   POLITICIAN.  351 

citizens,  were  inter-reactive,  mutually  cause 
and  effect.  They  were  willing  to  confirm  his 
valuation  of  his  own  talents  :  he  was  inclined  to 
exalt  himself  in  their  good  opinion.  Parallel 
to  this,  also,  was  the  oracular  tone  of  his  speech : 
the  louder  he  talked,  the  more  respectfully  silent 
were  his  auditors  ;  and  the  more  attentive  they 
became,  the  noisier  he  grew.  Submission  always 
encourages  oppression,  and  admiration  adds 
fuel  to  the  fire  of  vanity.  Not  that  the  politi 
cian  was  precisely  a  despot,  even  over  men's 
opinions :  the  application  of  that  name  to  him 
would  have  been  as  sore  a  wound  to  his  self- 
respect  as  the  imputation  of  horse-stealing.  He 
was  but  an  oracle  of  opinion,  and  though  allowed 
to  dictate  in  matters  of  thought  as  absolutely  as 
if  backed  by  brigades  of  soldiers,  he  was  a 
sovereign  whose  power  existed  only  through 
the  consent  of  his  subjects. 

In  personal  appearance,  he  was  well-calcu 
lated  to  retain  the  authority  intrusted  to  him  by 
such  men.  He  was,  in  fact,  an  epitome  of  all 
the  physical  qualities  which  distinguished  the 
rugged  people  of  the  west :  and  between  these 
and  the  moral  and  intellectual,  there  is  an  in 
variable  correspondence  —  as  if  the  spirit  within 
had  moulded  its  material  encasement  to  the 


352  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

planes  and  angles  of  its  own  "  form  and  pres- 


National  form  and  feature  are  the  external 
marks  of  national  character,  stamped  more  or 
less  distinctly  in  different  individuals,  but,  in 
the  aggregate,  perfectly  correspondent  and  com 
mensurate.  The  man,  therefore,  who  possesses 
the  national  traits  of  character  in  their  best  de 
velopment,  will  be,  also,  the  most  faithful  repre 
sentative  of  his  race  in  physical  characteristics. 
At  some  periods,  there  are  whole  classes  of  these 
types ;  and  if  there  be  any  one  who  embodies 
the  character  more  perfectly  than  all  others,  the 
tranquillity  of  the  age  is  not  calculated  to  draw 
him  forth.  But  in  all  times  of  trouble  —  of 
revolution  or  national  ferment  —  the  perfect 
Man-emblem  is  seen  to  rise,  and  (which  is  more 
to  the  purpose)  is  sure  to  stand  at  the  head  of 
his  fellows  :  for  he  who  best  represents  the  char 
acter  of  his  followers,  becomes,  by  God's  ap 
pointment,  their  leader.  To  this  extent,  the 
vox  populi  is  the  vox  Dei  ;  and  the  unfailing 
success  of  every  such  man,  throughout  his  ap 
pointed  term,  is  the  best  possible  justification 
of  the  choice. 

What  was  Washington,  for  example,  but  an 
epitome  of  the  steady  and  noble  qualities  com- 


THE   POLITICIAN.  353 

bined  of  cavalier  and  puritan,  which  were  then 
coalescing  in  the  American  character?  And 
what  more  perfect  correspondence  could  be 
conceived  between  the  moral  and  intellectual 
and  the  physical  outlines?  What  was  Crom 
well  but  the  Englishman ,  not  only  of  his  own 
time,  but  of  all  times  ?  And  the  testimony  of 
all  who  saw  him,  what  is  it,  but  that  a  child, 
who  looked  upon  him,  could  not  fail  to  see,  in 
his  very  lineaments,  the  great  and  terrible  man 
he  was?  And  Napoleon,  was  he  aught  bu!  an 
abridgment  of  the  French  nation,  the  sublimate 
and  "proof"  essence  of  French  character? 
ISTot  one,  of  all  the  great  men  of  history, 
has  possessed,  so  far  as  we  know,  a  physical 
constitution  more  perfectly  representing,  even 
in  its  advancing  grossness,  both  the  strength 
and  weakness  of  the  people  he  led. 

In  tranquil  times,  these/  things  are  not  ob 
served  in  one  individual  more  than  in  others  of 
his  class,  and  we  are,  therefore,  not  prepared  to 
decide  whether,  at  such  periods,  the  one  man 
exists.  The  great  Leviathan,  the  king  of  all  the 
creatures  of  the  ocean,  rises  to  the  surface  only 
in  the  tumult  of  the  storm  ;  his  huge,  portentous 
form,  lies  on  the  face  of  the  troubled  waters  only 
when  the  currents  are  changed  and  the  fountains 
of  the  deep  are  broken  up. 


354:  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Nature  docs  no  superfluous  work,  and  it  may 
require  the  same  causes  which  produce  the 
storm  to  organize  its  Ruler.  If  a  great  rebellion 
is  boiling  among  men,  the  mingling  of  the  ele 
ments  is  projecting,  also,  the  Great  Rebel :  if  a 
national  cause  is  to  be  asserted,  the  principles 
upon  which  it  rests  will  first  create  its  appro 
priate  Exponent.  But  when  no  such  agitation 
is  on  the  point  of  breaking  out — when  the 
crisis  is  not  near,  and  the  necessity  for  such 
greatness  distant — national  character  probably 
retains  its  level ;  and  though  there  be  no  one 
whom  the  people  will  recognise  as  the  arch-man, 
the  representatives,  losing  in  intensity  what  they 
gain  in  numbers,  become  a  class.  They  fill  the 
civil  stations  of  the  country,  and  are  known  as 
men  of  mark  —  their  opinions  are  received, 
their  advice  accepted,  their  leading  followed. 
No  one  of  them  is  known  instinctively,  or 
trusted  implicitly,  as  the  leader  of  Nature's  ap 
pointment  :  yet  they  are,  in  fact,  the  exponents 
of  their  time  and  race,  and  in  exact  proportion 
to  the  degree  in  which  they  possess  the  char 
acter,  will  they  exhibit,  also,  the  physical  pecu 
liarities. 

Thus  it  was  at  the  time  of  which  we  are 
writing,  with  the  class  to  which  belonged  the 


THE   POLITICIAN.  355 

politician,  and  a  description  of  his  personal  ap 
pearance,  like  that  of  any  other  man,  will  con 
vey  no  indistinct  impression  of  his  internal 
character. 

Such  a  description  probably  combined  more 
characteristic  adjectives  than  that  of  any  other 
personage  of  his  time  —  adjectives,  some  of 
which  were  applicable  to  many  of  his  neigh 
bors,  respectively,  but  all  of  which  might  be 
bestowed  upon  him  only.  He  was  tall,  gaunt, 
angular,  swarthy,  active,  and  athletic.  His  hair 
was,  invariably,  black  as  the  wing  of  the  raven  ; 
even  in  that  small  portion  which  the  cap  of 
raccoon-skin  left  exposed  to  the  action  of  sun 
and  rain,  the  gray  was  but  thinly  scattered  ; 
imparting  to  the  monotonous  darkness  only  a 
more  iron  character.  As  late  as  the  present 
day,  though  we  have  changed  in  many  things, 
light-haired  men  seldom  attain  eminence  among 
the  western  people  :  many  of  our  legislators  are 
young  enough,  but  none  of  them  are  beardless. 
They  have  a  bilious  look,  as  if,  in  case  of  illness, 
their  only  hope  would  lie  in  calomel  and  jalap. 
One  might  understand,  at  the  first  glance,  that 
they  are  men  of  talent,  not  of  genius  /  and  that 
physical  energy,  the  enduring  vitality  of  the 
body,  has  no  inconsiderable  share  in  the  power 
of  the  mind. 


356  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Corresponding  to  the  sable  of  the  hair,  the 
politician's  eye  was  usually  small,  and  in 
tensely  black  —  not  the  dead,  inexpressive  jet, 
which  gives  the  idea  of  a  hole  through  white 
paper,  or  of  a  cavernous  socket  in  a  death's- 
head;  but  the  keen,  midnight  darkness,  in  whose 
depths  you  can  see  a  twinkle  of  starlight  — 
where  you  feel  that  there  is  meaning  as  well  as 
color.  There  might  be  an  expression  of  cunning 
along  with  that  of  penetration  —  but,  in  a  much 
higher  degree,  the  blaze  of  irascibility.  There 
could  be  no  doubt,  from  its  glance,  that  its  pos 
sessor  was  an  excellent  hater;  you  might  be 
assured  that  he  would  never  forget  an  injury  or 
betray  a  friend. 

A  stoop  in  the  shoulders  indicated  that,  in 
times  past,  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  carrying 
a  heavy  rifle,  and  of  closely  examining  the 
ground  over  which  he  walked ;  but  what  the 
chest  thus  lost  in  depth  it  gained  in  breadth. 
His  lungs  had  ample  space  in  which  to  play  — 
there  was  nothing  pulmonary  even  in  the  droop 
ing  shoulders.  Few  of  his  class  have  ever  lived 
to  a  very  advanced  age,  but  it  was  not  for  want 
of  iron-constitutions,  that  they  went  early  to 
the  grave.  The  same  services  to  his  country, 
which  gave  the  politician  his  prominence,  also 
shortened  his  life. 


THE   POLITICIAN.  357 

From  shoulders  thus  bowed,  hung  long,  mus 
cular  arms  —  sometimes,  perhaps,  dangling  a 
little  ungracefully,  but  always  under  the  com 
mand  of  their  owner,  and  ready  for  any  effort, 
however  violent.  These  were  terminated  by 
broad,  bony  hands,  which  looked  like  grapnels 
—  their  grasp,  indeed,  bore  no  faint  resemblance 
to  the  hold  of  those  symmetrical  instruments. 
Large  feet,  whose  toes  were  usually  turned  in, 
like  those  of  the  Indian,  were  wielded  by  limbs 
whose  vigor  and  activity  were  in  keeping  with 
the  figure  they  supported.  Imagine,  with  these 
peculiarities,  a  free,  bold,  rather  swaggering  gait, 
a  swrarthy  complexion,  and  conformable  features 
and  tones  of  voice:  and  —  excepting  his  cos 
tume —  you  have  before  your  fancy  a  complete 
picture  of  the  early  western  politician. 

But  the  item  of  costume  is  too  important  to 
be  passed  over  with  a  mere  allusion.  As  well 
might  we  paint  a  mountain  without  its  verdant 
clothing,  its  waving  plumes  of  pine  and  cedar, 
as  the  western  man  without  his  picturesque  and 
characteristic  habiliments.  The  first,  and  in 
dispensable  article  of  dress,  was  the  national 
hunting-shirt :  a  garment  whose  easy  fit  was 
well-adapted,  both  to  the  character  of  his  figure 
and  the  freedom  of  his  movements.  Its  nature 
did  not  admit  much  change  in  fashion  :  the  only 


358  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

variations  of  which  it  was  capable,  were  those 
of  ornament  and  color.  It  might  be  fringed 
around  the  cape  and  skirt,  or  made  plain ;  it 
might  be  blue,  or  copper-colored — perhaps 
tinged  with  a  little  madder.  And  the  variety 
of  material  was  quite  as  limited,  since  it  must 
be  of  either  jeans  or  deer  skin. 

Corresponding  to  this,  in  material,  style,  and 
texture,  he  wore,  also,  a  pair  of  wide  pantaloons 
— not  always  of  precisely  the  proper  length  for 
the  limbs  of  the  wearer,  but  having  invariably 
a  broad  waistband,  coming  up  close  under  the 
arms,  and  answering  the  purpose  of  the  modern 
vest.  People  were  not  so  dainty  about  "  set" 
and  "  fit,"  in  those  days,  as  they  have  since  be 
come  ;  and  these  primitive  integuments  were 
equally  well-adapted  to  the  figure  of  any  one  to 
whose  lot  they  might  fall.  In  their  production, 
no  one  had  been  concerned  save  the  family  of 
the  wearer.  The  sheep  which  bore  the  wool, 
belonged  to  his  own  flock,  and  all  the  opera 
tions,  subsequent  to  the  shearing,  necessary  to 
the  ultimate  result  of  shaping  into  a  garment, 
had  been  performed  by  his  wife  or  daughter. 
Many  politicians  have  continued  this  affectation 
of  plainness,  even  when  the  necessity  has  ceased, 
on  account  of  its  effect  upon  the  masses :  for 
people  are  apt  to  entertain  the  notion,  that  de- 


THE    POLITICIAN.  359 

cent  clothing  is  incompatible  with  mentnl 
ability,  and  that  he  who  is  most  manifestly  be 
hind  the  improvements  of  the  time,  is  best 
qualified  for  official  stations. 

A  neck-cloth,  or  cravat,  was  never  seen  about 
the  politician's  throat ;  and  for  the  same  reason 
of  expediency :  for  these  were  refinements  of 
affectation  which  had  not  then  been  introduced  ; 
and  a  man  who  thus  compassed  his  neck,  could 
no  more  have  been  elected  to  an  office,  than  if 
he  had  worn  the  cap  and  bells  of  a  Saxon  jester. 
The  shirt-bosoms  of  modern  days  were  in  the 
same  category  ;  and  starch  was  an  article  con 
traband  to  the  law  of  public  sentiment  —  inso 
much  that  no  epithet  expressed  more  thorough 
contempt  for  a  man,  than  the  graphic  word 
"  starched."  A  raccoon-skin  cap — or,  as  a  piece 
of  extravagant  finery,  a  white-wool  hat  —  with 
a  pair  of  heavy  shoes,  not  unfrequently  without 
the  luxury  of  hose  —  or,  if  with  them,  made  of 
blue- woollen  yarn,  from  the  back  of  a  sheep 
of  the  aforesaid  flock  —  completed  the  element 
of  costume. 

He  was  not  very  extravagantly  dressed,  as 
the  reader  sees  ;  but  we  can  say  of  him  —  what 
could  not  be  as  truly  spoken  of  many  men,  or, 
indeed,  of  many  women,  of  this  day  —  that  his 
clothing  bore  distinct  reference  to  his  character, 


360  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

and  was  well-adapted  to  his  "  style  of  beauty." 
In  fact,  everything  about  him,  form,  fiice,  man 
ners,  dress,  was  in  "in  keeping"  with  his  char 
acteristics. 

In  occuj.  ation,  he  was  usually  a  farmer ;  for 
the  materials  of  which  popular  tribunes  are 
made  in  later  times  —  such  as  lawyers,  gentle 
men  of  leisure,  and  pugnacious  preachers  — 
were  not  then  to  be  found.  The  population  of 
the  country  was  thoroughly-  agricultural ;  and 
though  (as  I  believe  I  have  elsewhere  observed) 
the  rural  people  of  the  west  were  neither  a 
cheerful  nor  a  polished  race,  as  a  class,  they 
possess,  even  yet,  qualities,  which,  culminating 
in  an  individual,  eminently  fit  him  for  the  role 
of  a  noisy  popular  leader. 

But  a  man  who  is  merely  fitted  to  such  a 
position,  is  a  very  different  animal  to  one  quali 
fied  to  give  laws  for  the  government  of  the 
citizen.  After  all  our  vain  boasting,  that  public 
sentiment  is  the  law  of  our  land,  there  is  really 
a  very  broad  distinction  between  forming  men's 
opinions  and  controlling  their  action.  If  the 
government  had  been  so  organized,  that  the 
pressure  of  popular  feeling  might  make  itself 
felt,  directly,  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  our 
history,  instead  of  being  that  of  a  great  and  ad- 


THE    POLITICIAN.  361 

vaneing  nation,  would  have  been  only  a  chroni 
cle  of  factious  and  unstable  violence.  It  does 
not  follow,  that  one  who  is  qualified  to  lead 
voters  at  the  polls,  or,  as  they  say  here,  "  on 
the  stump,"  will  be  able  to  embody,  in  enlight 
ened  enactments,  the  sentiment  which  he  con 
tributes  to  form,  any  more  than  that  the  tanner 
will  be  able  to  shape  a  well-fitting  boot  from  the 
leather  he  prepares.  "  Suum  ciiique  proprium 
dat  Natura  donum"*  A  blacksmith,  therefore, 
is  not  the  best  manufacturer  of  silver  spoons,  a 
lawyer  the  ablest  writer  of  sermons,  nor  either 
of  them  necessarily  the  safest  law-maker. 

But  those  things  to  which  his  qualifications 
were  appropriate,  the  politician  did  thoroughly 
and  well.  For  example,  he  was  a  skilful  farmer 
• — at  least  in  the  leading  branches  of  that  calling, 
though  he  gave  little  or  no  attention  to  the 
merely  ornamental.  For  the  latter,  he  had 
neither  time  nor  inclination.  Even  in  the  es 
sentials,  it  was  only  by  working,  as  he  expressed 
it,  "  to  the  best  advantage," — that  is,  contriving 
to  produce  the  largest  amount  of  results  with 
the  least  expenditure  of  labor  and  patience  — 
that  he  got  sufficient  leisure  to  attend  to  his 
public  duties;  and  as  for  "inclination,"  no 

*  Translate  "  donum,"  talent. 

16 


362  WESTERN    CIIAKACTEfJS. 

quaker  ever  felt  a  more  supreme  contempt  for 
mere  embellishment. 

He  was  seldom  very  happy  in  his  domestic 
relations  ;  for,  excepting  at  those  seasons  when 
the  exigencies  of  his  calling  required  his  con 
stant  attention,  he  spent  but  little  of  his  time  at 
his  own  fireside.  He  absented  himself  until 
his  home  became  strange  and  uncomfortable  to 
him :  and  he  then  did  the  same,  because  it  had 
become  so.  Every  man  who  may  try  the  ex 
periment  will  discover  that  these  circumstances 
mutually  aggravate  each  other  —  are,  inter 
changeably,  cause  and  effect.  His  children 
were,  however,  always  numerous,  scarcely  ever 
falling  below  half-a-dozen,  and  not  unfrequently 
doubling  that  allowance.  They  generally  ap 
peared  upon  the  stage  in  rapid  succession  —  one 
had  scarcely  time  to  get  out  of  the  way,  before 
another  was  pushing  him  from  his  place.  The 
peevishness  thus  begotten  in  the  mother — by 
the  constant  habit  of  nursing  cross  cherubs  — 
though  it  diminished  the  amount  of  family 
peace,  contributed,  in  another  way,  to  the 
general  welfare :  it  induced  the  father  to  look 
abroad  for  enjoyment,  and  thus  gave  the  country 
the  benefit  of  his  wisdom  as  a  political  coun 
sellor.  Public  spirit,  and  the  consciousness  of 


THE   POLITICIAN.  363 

ability,  liave  "  brought  out"  many  politicians : 
but  uncomfortable  homes  have  produced  many 
more. 

He  was  an  oracle  on  the  subject  of  hunting, 
and  an  unerring  judge  of  whiskey  —  to  both 
which  means  of  enjoyment  he  was  strongly 
attached.  He  was  careful,  however,  neither  to 
hunt  nor  drink  in  solitude,  for  even  his  amuse 
ments  were  subservient  to  his  political  interests. 
To  hunt  alone  was  a  waste  of  time,  while  drink 
ing  alone  was  a  loss  of  good-fellowship,  upon 
which  much  of  his  influence  was  founded.  He 
was  particularly  attached  to  parties  of  half-a- 
dozen,  or  more ;  for  in  such  companions,  his 
talents  were  always  conspicuous.  Around  a 
burgou*  pot,  or  along  the  trenches  of  an  im 
promptu  barbecue,  he  shone  in  meridian  splen 
dor  ;  and  the  approving  smack  of  his  lips,  over 
a  bottle  of  "backwoods'  nectar,"  was  the  seal 
of  the  judgment  which  gave  character  to  the 
liquor. 

"  Militia  musters"  were  days  in  his  calendar, 
"  marked  with  a  white-stone ;"  for  it  was  upon 

*  A  kind  of  soup,  made  by  boiling  all  sorts  of  game  with 
corn,  onions,  tomatoes,  and  a  variety  of  other  vegetables. 
When  skilfully  concocted  and  properly  seasoned,  not  at  all 
unsavory.  So  called  from  a  soup  made  by  seamen. 


364:  WKSTKUX    CIIAKACTEES. 

these  occasions  that  lie  appeared  in  his  utmost 
magnificence.  His  grade  was  never  lower  than 
that  of  colonel,  and  it  not  nn frequently  extend 
ed  to,  or  even  beyond,  the  rank  of  brigadier- 
general.  It  was  worth  "  a  sabbath-day's  jour 
ney"  on  foot,  to  witness  one  of  these  parades; 
for  I  believe  that  all  the  annals  of  the  burlesque 
do  not  furnish  a  more  amusing  caricature  of  the 
"  pomp  and  circumstance"  of  war.  Compared 
to  one  of  those  militia  regiments,  FalstafFs 
famous  corps,  whose  appearance  was  so  un- 
military  as  to  prevent  even  that  liberal-minded 
gentleman  from  marching  through  Coventry  in 
their  company,  was  a  model  of  elegance  and 
discipline.  Sedeno's  cavalry  in  the  South  Amer 
ican  wars,  though  their  uniform  consisted  only 
of  "  leggings,"  a  pair  of  spurs,  and  a  Spanish 
blanket,  had  more  the  aspect  of  a  regular  corps 
cParmee  than  these !  A  mob  of  rustics  was 
never  armed  with  a  more  extensive  variety  of 
weapons  ;  and  no  night's  "  haul"  of  a  recruiting 
sergeant's  net,  ever  made  a  more  disorderly  ap 
pearance,  when  mustered  in  the  morning  for 
inspection. 

The  "  citizen-soldier"  knew  no  more  about 
"  dressing  the  line,"  than  about  dressing  him 
self,  and  the  front  of  his  company  presented  as 
many  inequalities  as  a  "  worm-fence."  Tall 


THE   POLITICIAN.  365 

men  and  short  men  —  beaver  hats  .and  raccoon- 
skin  caps— rusty  firelocks  and  long  corn-stalks 
—  stiff  brogans  and  naked  feet — composed  the 
grand  display.  There  were  as  many  officers  as 
men,  and  each  was  continually  commanding 
and  instructing  his  neighbor,  but  never  thinking 
of  himself.  At  the  command  "  Right  dress  !" 
(when  the  officer  par  excellence  knew  enough 
to  deliver  it)  some  looked  right,  others  left — 
some  thrust  their  heads  out  before  —  some  lean 
ed  back  to  get  a  glimpse  behind  —  and  the 
whole  line  waved  like  a  streamer  in  the  wind. 
"  Silence  in  line  !"  produced  a  greater  clamor 
than  ever,  for  each  repeated  the  command  to 
every  other,  sending  the  order  along  the  ranks 
like  a  rolling  fire,  and  not  unfrequently  enforcing 
it  with  the  push  of  a  corn-stalk,  or  a  vigorous 
elbow-hint.  When  a  movement  was  directed, 
the  order  reached  the  men  successively,  by  the 
same  process  of  repetition — so  that  while  some 
files  were  walking  slowly,  and  looking  back  to 
beckon  on  their  lagging  fellow-soldiers,  others 
were  forced  to  a  quick  run  to  regain  their  places, 
and  the  scramble  often  continued  many  minutes 
after  the  word  "  halt !"  The  longer  the  parade 
lasted,  the  worse  was  the  drill ;  and  after  a  tedious 
day's  "  muster,"  each  man  knew  less,  if  possible, 
of  military  tactics,  than  he  did  in  the  morning. 


366  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

But  the  most  ludicrous  part  of  the  display, 
was  the  earnest  solemnity  with  which  the  poli 
tician-colonel  endeavored  "  to  lick  the  mass  into 
shape."  If  you  had  judged  only  by  the  ex 
pression  of  his  face,  you  would  have  supposed 
that  an  invading  army  was  already  within  our 
borders,  and  that  this  democratic  army  was  the 
only  hope  of  patriotism  to  repel  the  foreign 
foe.  And,  indeed,  it  might  not  be  too  much  to 
say,  that  some  such  idea  actually  occupied  his 
mind  :  for  he  was  so  fond  of  "  supposing  cases," 
that  bare  possibilities  sometimes  grew  in  his 
mind  to  actual  realities ;  and  it  was  a  part  of 
his  creed,  as  well  as  his  policy  to  preach,  that 
"  a  nation's  best  defence"  is  to  be  found  in  "  the 
undisciplined  valor  of  its  citizens."  His  mili 
tary  maxims  were  not  based  upon  the  history 
of  such  countries  as  Poland  and  Spain  —  and 
Hungary  had  not  then  added  her  example  to 
the  list.  He  never  understood  the  relation  be 
tween  discipline  and  efficiency ;  and  the  doc 
trine  of  the  "  largest  liberty"  was  so  popular, 
that,  on  his  theory,  it  must  be  universally  right. 
Tempered  thus,  and  modified  by  some  of  the 
tendencies  of  the  demagogue,  his  love  of  military 
parade  amounted  to  a  propensity,  a  trait  which 
he  shared  with  most  of  the  people  among  whom 
he  lived. 


THE   POLITICIAN.  367 

The  inference  from  tins  characteristic,  that 
he  possessed  what  phrenologists  used  to  call 
"  combativeness,"  is  not  unavoidable,  though 
such  was  the  fact.  He  was,  indeed,  quite  pug 
nacious,  ready,  at  all  times,  to  fight  for  himself 
or  for  his  friends,  and  never  with  any  very 
special  or  discriminating  reference  to  the  cause 
of  quarrel.  He  was,  however,  seldom  at  feud 
with  any  one  whose  enmity  could  materially 
injure  him  :  extensive  connections  he  always 
conciliated,  and  every  popular  man  was  his 
friend.  JSTor  was  he  compelled,  in  order  to  com 
pass  these  ends,  to  descend  to  any  very  low 
arts ;  for  "  the  people,"  were  not  so  fastidious  in 
those  days,  as  they  seem  since  to  have  become ; 
and  a  straightforward  sincerity  was  then  the 
first  element  of  popularity.  The  politician  was 
not  forced  to  affect  an  exemplary  "  walk  and 
conversation ;"  nor  was  an  open  declaration  of 
principle  or  opinion  dangerous  to  his  success. 

This  liberality  in  public  sentiment  had  its 
evils  :  since,  for  example,  the  politician  was  not 
generally  the  less  esteemed  for  being  rather  a 
hard  swearer.  In  the  majority  of  the  class,  in 
deed,  this  amounted  only  to  an  energetic  or  em 
phatic  mode  of  expression ;  and  such  the  people 
did  not  less  respect,  than  if,  in  the  same  person, 
they  had  had  reason  to  believe  the  opposite  tone 


368  WESTERN   CHARACTERS. 

hypocritical.  The  western  people  —  to  their 
honor  be  it  written! — were,  and  are,  mortal 
enemies  to  everything  like  cant:  though  they 
might  regret,  that  one's  morals  were  no  'better 
than  they  appeared,  they  were  still  more  grieved, 
if  they  found  evidence,  that  they  were  worse, 
than  they  claimed  to  be. 

But,  though  the  politician  was  really  very 
open  and  candid  in  all  the  affairs  of  life,  in  his 
own  estimation  he  was  a  very  dexterous  and 
dangerous  intriguer:  he  often  deceived  himself 
into  the  belief,  that  the  success,  which  was  in 
fact  the  result  of  his  manly  candor,  was  attribu 
table  only  to  his  cunning  management.  lie 
was  always  forming,  and  attempting  to  execute, 
schemes  for  circumventing  his  .political  oppo 
nents  ;  but,  if  he  bore  down  all  opposition,  it 
was  in  spite  of  his  chicanery,  and  not  by  its 
assistance.  Left-handed  courses  are  never  ad 
vantageous  "  in  the  long  run ;"  and,  perhaps,  it 
would  be  well  if  this  lesson  were  better  under 
stood  by  politicians,  even  in  our  own  enlight 
ened  day. 

For  the  arts  of  rhetoric  he  had  small  respect ; 
in  his  opinion,  the  man  who  was  capable  of 
making  a  long,  florid  speech,  was  fit  for  little 
else.  His  own  oratorical  efforts  were  usually 


THE    POLITICIAN.  369 

brief,  pithy,  and  to  the  point.  For  example, 
here  follows  a  specimen,  which  the  writer  heard 
delivered  in  Illinois,  by  a  candidate  for  the 
legislature :  — 

"  Fellow-citizens  :  I  am  no  speech-maker,  but 
what  I  say,  Pll  do.  I've  lived  among  you 
twenty  years,  and  if  I've  shown  myself  a  clever 
fellow,  you  know  it,  without  a  speech  :  if  I'm 
not  a  clever  fellow,  you  know  that,  too,  and 
wouldn't  forget  it  with  a  speech.  I'm  a  candi 
date  for  the  legislature :  if  you  think  I'm  c  the 
clear  grit,'  vote  for  me :  if  you  think  Major 
R —  -  of  a  better  '  stripe'  than  I  am,  vote  for 
him.  The  fact  is,  that  either  of  us  will  make 
a  devilish  good  representative  !" 

For  the  satisfaction  of  the  reader,  we  should 
record  that  the  orator  was  triumphantly  elected, 
and,  though  "  no  speech-maker,"  was  an  excel 
lent  member  for  several  years. 

The  saddest,  yet  cheerfullest — the  quaintest, 
yet  most  unaffected  of  moralists,  has  written 
"  A  Complaint  upon  the  Decay  of  Beggars," 
which  will  not  cease  to  be  read,  so  long  as  pure 
English  and  pure  feeling  are  understood  and 
appreciated.  They  were  a  part  of  the  recollec 
tions  of  his  childhood  —  images  painted  upon 
his  heart,  impressions  made  in  his  soft  and  pity- 
16* 


370  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

ing  nature ;  and  the  "  besom  of  societarian  ref 
ormation,"  legislating  busybodies,  and  tinkers 
of  the  general  welfare,  were  sweeping  them 
away,  with  all  their  humanizing  influences, 
their  deep  lessons  of  dire  adversity  and  gentle 
charity. 

There  are  some  memories  of  the  childhood 
of  western  men — unlike,  and  yet  similar  in  their 
generous  persuasions  on  all  pure  young  hearts 
— upon  whose  "Decay"  might,  also,  be  written 
a  "  Complaint,"  which  should  come  as  truly, 
and  yet  as  sadly,  from  the  heart  of  him,  who 
remembers  his  boyhood,  as  did  that  from  the 
heart  of  Elia.  Gatherings  of  the  militia,  bur- 
gou-hunts,  barbecues,  and  anniversaries — pha 
ses  of  a  primitive,  yet  true  and  hearty  time  ! — • 
are  fast  giving  way,  before  the  march  of  a  bar 
barous  "  progress"  (erroneously  christened)  u  of 
intelligence."  The  hard  spirit  of  money-get 
ting,  the  harder  spirit  of  education-getting,  and 
the  hardest  of  all  spirits,  that  of  pharasaical 
morality,  have  divorced  our  youth,  a  vinculo, 
from  every  species  of  amusement ;  and  life  has 
come  to  be  a  probationary  struggle,  too  fierce 
to  allow  a  moment's  relaxation.  The  bodies  of 
children  are  drugged  and  worried  into  health, 
their  intellects  are  stuffed  and  forced  into  pre 
mature  development,  or  early  decay — but  their 


THE   POLITICIAN.  371 

hearts  are  utterly  forgotten  !  Enjoyment  is  a  for 
bidden  thing,  and  only  the  miserable  cant  of  "in 
tellectual  pleasure"  is  allowed.  Ideas — of  phi 
losophy,  religious  observance,  and  mathematics 
• —  are  supplied  ad  nauseam  ;  but  the  encourage 
ment  of  a  generous  impulse,  or  a  magnani- 
mQVLQ  feeling,  is  too  frivolous  a  thing  to  have  a 
place  in  our  vile  system.  Children  are  "  brought 
up,"  and  "  brought  out,"  as  if  they  were  com 
posed  exclusively  of  intellect  and  body:  And, 
since  the  manifestations  of  any  other  element 
are  pronounced  pernicious  —  even  if  the  exis 
tence  of  the  element  itself  be  recognised — the 
means  of  fostering  it,  innocent  amusements, 
which  make  the  sunshine  brighter,  the  spirits 
more  cheerful,  and  the  heart  purer  and  lighter, 
are  sternly  prohibited.  Alas !  for  the  genera 
tion  which  shall  grow  up,  and  be  "  educated" 
(God  save  the  mark!)  as  if  it  had  no  heart! 
And  wo  to  the  blasphemy  which  dares  to  offer, 
as  service  to  Heaven,  an  arrogant  contempt  of 
Heaven's  gifts,  and  claims  a  reward,  like  the 
self-tormentors  of  the  middle  ages,  for  its  vain, 
mortifications. 

But,  in  the  time  of  the  politician,  of  whom 
we  write,  these  things  were  far  different.  We 
have  already  seen  him  at  a  "  militia  muster," 
and  fain  would  we  pause  here,  to  display  him 


372  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

at  a  barbecue.  "What  memories,  sweet,  though 
sad,  we  might  evoke  of  "  the  glorious  fourth" 
in  the  olden  time  !  How  savory  are  even  the 
dim  recollections  of  the  dripping  viands,  which 
hung,  and  fried,  and  crisped,  and  crackled,  over 
the  great  fires,  in  the  long  deep  trenches!  Our 
nostrils  grow  young  again  with  the  thought — • 
and  the  flavor  of  the  feast  floats  on  the  breezes 
of  memory,  even  "  across  the  waste  of  years" 
which  lie  between !  And  the  cool,  luxuriant 
foliage  of  the  grove,  the  verdant  thickets,  and 
among  them  pleasant  vistas,  little  patches  of 
green  sward,  covered  with  gay  and  laughing 
parties — even  the  rosy-cheeked  girls,  in  their 
rustling  gingham  dresses,  cast  now  and  then  a 
longing  glance,  toward  the  yet  forbidden  tables! 
how  fresh  and  clear  these  images  return  upon 
the  fancy ! 

And  then  the  waving  banners,  roaring  can 
non,  and  the  slow  procession,  moving  all  too 
solemnly  for  our  impatient  wishes  !  And  final 
ly,  the  dropping  of  the  ropes,  the  simultaneous 
rush  upon  the  open  feast,  and  the  rapid,  per 
haps  ravenous  consumption  of  the  smoking 
viands,  the  jest,  the  laugh,  all  pleasant  merri 
ment,  the  exhilaration  of  the  crowd,  the  music, 
and  the  occasion !  What  glories  we  heard  from 
the  orator,  of  victories  achieved  by  our  fathers ! 


THE   POLITICIAN.  373 

How  we  longed  —  O  !  brief,  but  glorious  dream  ! 
to  be  one  day  spoken  of  like  Washington  ! 
How  wildly  our  hearts  leaped  in  our  boyish 
bosoms,  as  we  listened  to  the  accents  of  the 
solemn  pledge  and  "  declaration"  —  "our  lives, 
our  fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor!"  The 
whole  year  went  lighter  for  that  one  day,  and 
at  each  return,  we  went  home  happier,  and 
better ! 

How  measureless  we  thought  the  politician's 
greatness  then  !  This  was  his  proper  element 
• — here  he  was  at  home  ;  and,  as  he  ordered  and 
directed  everything  about  him,  flourishing  his 
marshal's  baton,  clearing  the  way  for  the  march 
of  the  procession  —  settling  the  "order  of  exer 
cises,"  and  reading  the  programme,  in  a  stento 
rian  voice — there  was,  probably  in  his  own  esti 
mation,  and  certainly  in  ours,  no  more  impor 
tant  or  honored  individual  in  all  that  multi 
tude! 

In  such  scenes  as  these,  he  was,  indeed,  with 
out  a  rival ;  but  there  were  others,  also,  in 
which  he  was  quite  as  useful,  if  not  so  conspic 
uous.  On  election  days,  for  instance,  when  a 
free  people  assembled  to  exercise  their  "  inesti 
mable  privilege,"  to  choose  their  own  rulers — • 
he  was  as  busy  as  a  witch  in  a  tempest.  His 
talents  shone  forth  with  especial  and  peculiar 


37-i  WESTERN    CIIAKACTIvnS. 

lustre  —  for,  with  him,  this  was  "the  day  for 
which  all  other  days  were  made."  He  mar 
shalled  his  retainers,  and  led  them  to  "  the 
polls" — not  as  an  inexperienced  tactician  would 
have  done,  with  much  waste  of  time,  in  seek 
ing  every  private  voter,  but  after  the  manner 
of  feudal  times — by  calling  upon  his  immedi 
ate  dependants,  captains  over  tens  and  twenties, 
through  whom  he  managed  the  more  numerous 
masses.  These  were  the  "file-leaders,"  the 
"  fugle-men,"  and  "  heads  of  messes ;"  and  it 
was  by  a  judicious  management  of  these,  that 
he  was  able  to  acquire  and  retain  an  extensive 
influence. 

The  first  article  of  his  electioneering  creed 
was,  that  every  voter  was  controlled  by  some 
body  ;  and  that  the  only  way  to  sway  the  pri 
vates  was,  to  govern  the  officers :  and,  whether 
true  or  not,  it  must  be  admitted  that  his  theory 
worked  well  in  practice.  He  affected  to  enter 
tain  a  high  respect  for  those  whom  he  described 
as  "  the  boys  from  the  heads  of  the  hollows" — 
men  who  were  never  seen  beyond  the  precincts 
of  their  own  little  "  clearings,"  except  upon  the 
Fourth  of  July  and  election  day,  from  one  end 
of  the  year  to  the  other.  With  these  he  drank 
bad  whiskey,  made  stale  jokes,  and  affected  a 
flattering  condescension.  With  others,  more 


THE   POLITICIAN.  375 

important  or  less  easily  imposed  upon,  he 
"  whittled"  sociably  in  the  fence-corners,  talked 
solemnly  in  conspicuous  places,  and  always 
looked  confidential  and  mysterious. 

But,  however  earnestly  engaged,  he  never 
forgot  the  warfare  in  which  he  was  chief  com 
batant.  Like  a  general  upon  a  field  of  battle, 
with  his  staff  about  him,  he  had  sundry  of  his 
friends  always  near,  to  undertake  any  commis 
sion,  or  convey  any  order,  which  he  desired  to 
have  executed ;  and  not  a  voter  could  come 
upon  the  ground,  whom  there  was  the  remotest 
chance  to  influence,  that  his  vigilance  did  not 
at  once  discover  and  seize  upon,  through  some 
one  of  these  lieutenants.  He  resorted  to  every 
conceivable  art,  to  induce  the  freemen  to  vote 
properly  /  and,  when  he  could  not  succeed  in 
this,  his  next  study  was  to  prevent  their  voting 
at  all.  The  consequence  usually  was,  that  he 
secured  his  own  election,  or  that  of  his  chosen 
candidate ;  for,  in  him,  vigilance  and  shrewd 
ness  were  happily  combined. 

But,  perhaps  fortunately  for  the  country,  his 
ambition  was  generally  limited  to  such  small 
offices,  as  he  was  quite  capable  of  filling.  The 
highest  point  at  which  he  aimed,  was  a  seat  in 
the  state  legislature ;  and  on  reaching  that  goal, 


376  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

he  signalized  his  term,  chiefly,  if  at  all,  in  advo 
cating  laws  about  division  fences,  and  trespas 
sers  upon  timber  —  measures  which  he  deemed 
desirable  for  his  own  immediate  constituency, 
•with  very  little  care  for  the  question  of  their 
general  utility.  Indeed,  he  never  went  to  the 
capital,  without  having  his  pockets  full  of  "  pri 
vate  bills,"  for  the  gratification  of  his  personal 
friends,  or  near  neighbors  ;  and  if,  after  a  reason 
able  term  of  service,  he  had  succeeded  in  get 
ting  all  these  passed  into  laws,  he  came  home, 
contented  to  "subside,"  and  live  the  remainder 
of  his  days,  upon  the  recollection  of  his  legisla 
tive  honors. 

In  the  course  of  time,  like  all  other  earthly 
things,  his  class  began  to  decay.  The  tide  of 
immigration,  or  the  increasing  intelligence  of 
the  people,  raised  up  men  of  larger  views  ;  and 
he  speedily  found  himself  outstripped  in  the 
race,  and  forgotten  by  his  ancient  retainers. 
Then  —  like  his  predecessor,  the  original  fron- 
tierman  —  disgusted  with  civilization  and  its 
refinements  —  he  migrated  to  more  congenial 
regions,  and,  in  the  scenes  of  his  former  tri 
umphs,  was  heard  of  no  more. 


THE   POLITICIAN.  377 


EPILOGUE. 

HEBE  we  must  pause. 

On  the  hither  side  of  the  period,  represented 
by  the  early  politician,  and  between  that  and 
the  present,  the  space  of  time  is  much  too  nar- 
ro\v,  to  contain  any  distinct  development:  those 
who  superseded  the  primitive  oracles,  are  yet 
in  possession  of  the  temple.  We  could  not, 
therefore,  pursue  our  plan  further,  without 
hazarding  the  charge  of  drawing  from  the  life. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  anything  like  a  fair  or 
candid  estimate  of — for  example  —  a  public 
man's  character,  while  he  is  yet  favored  with 
the  people's  suffrages,  is  very  certain  to  be  pro 
nounced  a  caricature;  and  it  is  not  less  singu 
lar,  that,  while  the  complaints  of  popular  critics, 
in  effect,  affirm  that  there  is  fidelity  enough  in 
the  picture  to  enable  even  obtuse  minds  to  fit 
the  copy  to  the  original,  they  at  the  same  time 
vehemently  assert  that  the  whole  portrait  is  a 
libel.  A  just  admeasurement  of  a  demagogue's 
ability  is  thus  always  abated  by  the  imputation 
of  partisan  falsehood  or  prejudice  ;  and  whoso 
ever  declines  to  join  in  the  adulation  of  a  tem 
porary  idol,  may  consider  himself  fortunate,  if 
he  escape  with  only  the  reproach  of  envy. 


378  WESTERN    CHARACTERS. 

Sketches  of  contemporaneous  character — if 
they  seek  recognition  among  the  masses,  must, 
therefore,  not  reduce  the  altitude  which  blind 
admiration  has  assigned,  nor  cut  away  the  for 
eign  lace,  nor  tear  the  ornaments,  with  which 
excited  parties  have  bedaubed  their  images  of 
clay.  And,  yet,  so  prone  are  men  to  overrate 
their  leaders,  that  no  estimate  of  a  prominent 
man  can  be  just,  without  impugning  popular 
opinion. 

There  is  probably  no  other  ground  quite  so 
perilous  as  politics,  unless  it  be  literature  :  and, 
as  yet,  the  west  is  comparatively  barren  of  those 
"  sensitive  plants,"  literary  men.  But  any  at 
tempt  to  delineate  society,  by  portraiture  of 
living  characters,  even  though  the  pictures 
were  purely  ideal,  would,  upon  the  present  plan, 
involve  the  suspicion  (and  perhaps  the  tempta 
tion  to  deserve  it),  indicated  above.  Before 
venturing  upon  such  uncertain  paths,  therefore, 
we  must  display  a  little  generalship,  and  call  a 
halt,  if  not  a  council  of  war.  "Whether  we  are 
to  march  forward,  will  be  determined  by  the 
"  General  Orders^ 


THE   END. 


J.  S.  REDFIELD, 

110  AND  112  NASSAU  STREET,  NEW  YORK, 

HAS  JUST  PUBLISHED : 


EPISODES  OF  INSECT  LIFE. 

By  ACHETA  DOMESTICA.  In  Three  Series :  I.  Insects  of  Spring.— 
II.  Insects  of  Summer. —  III.  Insects  of  Autumn.  Beautifully 
illustrated.  Crown  8vo.,  cloth,  gilt,  price  $2.00  each.  The  same 
beautifully  colored  after  nature,  extra  gilt,  $4.00  each. 

"  A  hook  elegant  enough  for  the  centre  table,  witty  enough  for  after  dinner,  and  wise 
enough  for  the  study  and  the  school-room.  One  of  the  beautiful  lessons  of  this  work  ia 
the  kindly  view  it  takes  of  nature.  Nothing  is  made  in  vain  not  only,  but  nothing  is 
made  ugly  or  repulsive.  A  charm  is  thrown  around  every  object,  and  life  suffused 
through  all.  suggestive  of  the  Creator's  goodness  and  wisdom." — N.  Y.  Evangelist. 

"  Moths,  glow-worms,  lady-birds,  May-flies,  bees,  and  a  variety  of  other  inhabitants  of 
the  insect  world,  are  descanted  upon  in  a  pleasing  style,  combining  scientific  information 
with  romance,  in  a  manner  peculiarly  attractive." — Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  The  book  includes  solid  instruction  as  well  as  genial  and  captivating  mirth.  The 
scientific  knowledge  of  the  writer  is  thoroughly  reliable." — Examiner 


MEN  AND  WOMEN  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY. 

By  ARSF.NK  HOUSSAYE,  with  beautifully  Engraved  Portraits  of 
Louis  XV.,  and  Madame  de  Pompadour.  Two  volume  12mo. 
450  pages  each,  extra  superfine  paper,  price  $2.50. 

CONTENTS. — Dufresny,  Fontenelle,  Marivnux,  Piron,  The  Abbe  Prevost,  Gentil-Bcrnard, 
Florian,  Boufflers,  Diderot,  Gretry,  Riverol,  Louis  XV.,  Greuze,  Boucher,  The  Van- 
loos,  Laritara,  \Vatteau,  La  Motte,  Dehle,  Abbg  Trublet,  Buftbn,  Dorat,  Cardinal  de 
Bernis,  Crebillon  the  Gay,  Marie  Antoinette,  Made,  de  Pompadour,  Vade,  Mile.  Ca- 
margo.  Mile.  Clairon,  Mad.  de  la  Popeliniere,  Sophie  Arnould,  Crebillon  the  Tragic, 
Mile,  Guimard,  Three  Pages  in  the  Life  of  Dancourt,  A  Promenade  in  the  Palais-Royal, 
the  Chevalier  de  la  Clos. 

•'A  more  fascinating  book  thnn  this  rarely  is.=uns  from  the  teeming  press.  Fascina- 
ring  in  its  subject ;  fascinating  in  its  style :  fascinating  in  its  power  to  Ifad  the  render  into 
castle-building  of  the  most  gorgeous  and  bewitching  description." — Courier  ff  Enquirer. 
"This  is  a  most  welcome  book,  full  of  information  and  amusement,  in  the  form  of 
memoirs,  comments,  and  anecdotes.  It  has  the  style  of  light  literature,  with  the  use 
fulness  if  the  gravest.  It  should  be  in  every  library,  and  the  hands  of  every  reader." 
Rattan  Commonwealth. 

"  A  BOOK  OF  BOOKS. — Two  deliciously  spicy  volumes,  that  are  a  perfect  bonne  bvucht 
far  tn  epicure  in  reading.'' — Home  Journal. 


REDFIELD'S  NKW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATION*. 


PHILOSOPHERS  AND  ACTRESSES 

By  ARSENE  HOUSSAYE.     With  beautifully-engraved  Portrait*  of 
Voltaire  and  Mad.  Parabere.     Two  vols.,  12mo,  price  $2.50. 

"We  have  here  the  most  charming  book  we  have  read  these  many  days, — so 
powerful  in  its  fascination  that  we  have  been  held  for  hours  from  our  imperious  labor*, 
or  needful  slumbers,  by  the  entrancing  influence  of  its  pages.  One  of  tite  most  desira 
ble  fruits  of  the  prolific  field  of  literature  of  the  present  season." — Por'.ni>td  Eclectic. 

"  Two  brilliant  and  fascinating — we  had  almost  eaid,  bewitching— volumes,  combi 
ning  information  and  amusement,  the  lightest  gossip,  with  solid  and  serviceable,  vvii 
dom." — Yankee  Blade. 

"  It  is  a  most  admirable  book,  full  of  originality,  wit,  information  and  philosophy 
Indeed,  the  vividness  of  the  book  is  extraordinary.  The  scenes  and  decryptions  ar« 
absolutely  life-like." — Southern  Literary  Gazette. 

"  The  works  of  the  present  writer  are  the  only  ones  the  spirit  of  whr«e  rhetoric  does 
justice  to  those  times,  and  in  fascination  of  description  and  style  equal  the  fascination! 
they  descant  upon." — New  Orleans  Commercial  Bulletin. 

"The  author  is  a  brilliant  writer,  and  serves  up  his  sketches  in  a  sparkling  manner." 
Gtristian  Freeman. 


«*, 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  UNDER  THE  PHARAOHS. 
By  JOHN  KENDRICK,  M.  A.     In  2  vols.,  12mo,  price  $2.50. 

"No  work  has  heretofore  appeared  suited  to  the  wants  of  the  historical  student, 
which  combined  the  labors  of  artists,  travellers,  interpreters  and  critics,  during  the 
periods  from  the  earliest  records  of  the  monarchy  to  its  final  absorption  in  the  empire 
of  Alexander.  This  work  supplies  this  deficiency. " — Olive  Branch. 

"  Not  only  the  geography  and  political  history  of  Egypt  under  the  Pharaohs  are 
given,  but  we  are  furnished  with  a  minute  account  of  the  domestic  manners  and  cus 
toms  of  the.  inhabitants,  their  language,  laws,  science,  religion,  agriculture,  navigation 
and  commerce.''—  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"These  votames  present  a  Comprehensive  view  of  the  results  of  the  combined  labors 
of  travellers,  artists,  and  scientific  explorers,  which  have  effected  so  much  during  the 
present  century  toward  the  development  of  Egyptian  archaeology  and  history." — Jour 
nal  of  Commerce. 

"  The  descriptions  are  very  vivid  and  one  wanders,  delighted  with  the  author,  through 
the  land  of  Egypt,  gathering  at  every  step,  new  phases  of  her  wondrous  history,  and 
ends  with  a  more  intelligent  knowledge  than  he  ever  before  had,  of  the  laud  of  the 
Pharaohs." — American  Spectator. 


COMPARATIVE  PHYSIOGNOMY; 

Or  Resemblances  between  Men  and  Animals.  By  J.  W.  REDFIEJ.D, 
M.  D.  In  one  vol.,  8vo,  with  several  hundred  illustrations, 
price,  $2.00. 

"  Dr.  Redfield  has  produced  a  very  curious,  amusing,  and  instructive  book,  curioui 
in  its  originality  and  illustrations,  amusing  in  the  comparisons  and  analyses,  and  in. 
•tructive  because  it  contains  very  much  useful  information  on  a  too  much  neglected 
•ubject.  It  will  be  eagerly  read  and  quickly  appreciated." — National  JEgis. 

"The  whole  work  exhibits  a  good  deal  of  scientific  research,  intelligent  observation, 
and  ingenuity."—  Daily  Union. 

"  Highly  entertaining  even  to  those  who  have  little  time  to  study  the  science."— 
Detroit  Daily  Advertiser. 

'•  This  is  a  remarkable  volume  and  will  be  read  by  two  classes,  those  who  study  for 
information,  and  those  who  read  lor  amusement.  For  its  originality  and  entertaining 
character,  we  commend  it  to  our  readers." — Albany  Express. 

"  It  is  overflowing  with  wit,  humor,  and  originality,  and  profusely  illustrated.  Th« 
whole  work  is  distinguished  by  vast  research  and  knowledge." — Knickerbocker. 

"  The  plan  is  a  novel  one ;  the  proofs  striking,  and  must  challenge  the  attention  of  th» 
eurions," — Daily  Advertiser 


REDFIELD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR  PUBLICATIONS. 

MOORE'S  LIFE  OF  SHERIDAN. 

Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  the  Rt.  Hon.  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan, 
by  THOMAS  MOORE,  with  Portrait  after  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 
Two  vols.,  12mo,  cloth,  $2.00. 

"One  of  the  most  brilliant  biographies  in  English  literature.  It  is  the  life  of  a  wit 
written  by  a  wit.  and  few  of  Tom  Moore's  most  sparkling  poems  are  more  brilliant  and 
fascinating  than  this  biography  ."—  Boxton  Transcript. 

"  This  is  nt  once  a  most  valuable  biography  of  the  most  celebrated  wit  of  the  times, 
and  one  of  the  most  entertaining  works  ol  its  gifted  author." — Springfield  Republican. 

"  The  Life  of  Sheridan,  the  wit,  contains  as  much  food  for  serious  thought  as  the 
best  sermon  that  WHS  ever  penned.'' — Arthur's  Home  Gnzette. 

"The  skf'tch  of  such  a  character  and  career  as  Sheridan's  by  such  a  hand  as  Moore's, 
can  never  cease  to  be  attractive." — N.  Y.  Courier  and  Enquirer. 

"The  work  is  instructive  and  full  of  interest." — Christian  Intelligencer. 

"  It  is  a  gem  of  biography  ;  full  of  incident,  elegantly  written,  warmly  appreciative, 
and  on  the  whole  candid  and  just.  Sheridan  was  a  rare  and  wonderful  genius,  and  has 
in  this  work  justice  done  to  his  surpassing  merits."—  N.  Y.  Evangelist. 


BARRINGTON'S  SKETCHES. 

Personal  Sketches  of  his  own  Time,  by  SIR  JONAH  BAKRIIXGTON, 
Judge  of  the  High  Court  of  Admiralty  in  Ireland,  wich  Illustra 
tions  by  Darley.  Third  Edition,  12rno,  cloth,  $1  25. 

"  A  more  entertaining  book  than  this  is  not  often  thrown  in  our  way.  His  sketches 
of  character  are  inimitable  ;  and  many  of  the  prominent  men  of  his  time  are  hit  oft'in 
the  most  striking  and  graceful  outline." — Albany  Argus. 

"  He  was  a  very  shrewd  observer  and  eccentric  writer,  and  his  narrative  of  his  own 
life,  and  sketches  of  society  in  Ireland  during  his  times,  are  exceedingly  humorous  and 
interesting." — N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  It  is  one  of  those  works  which  are  conceived  and  written  in  so  hearty  a  view,  and 
brings  before  the  reader  so  many  palpable  and  amusing  characters,  that  the  entertain 
merit  and  information  are  equally  balanced."—  Boston  Transcript. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining  books  of  the  season." — N.  Y.  Recorder. 

"  It  portrays  in  life-like  colors  the  characters  and  daily  habits  of  nearly  all  the  Eng 
lish  and  Irish  celebrities  of  that  period."— TV.  Y.  Courier  and  Enquirer. 


JOMINPS  CAMPAIGN  OF  WATERLOO. 

The  Political  and  Military  History  of  the  Campaign  of  Waterloo, 
from  the  French  of  Gen.  Baron  Jomini,  by  Lieut.  S.  V.  BENET, 
U.  S.  Ordnance,  with  a  Map,  12mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

"  Of  great  value,  both  for  its  historical  merit  .and  its  acknowledged  impartiality."— 
Christian  Freeman,  Boston. 

"  It  has  long  been  regarded  in  Europe  as  a  work  of  more  than  ordinary  merit,  while 
to  military  men  his  review  of  the  tactics  and  manoeuvres  of  the  French  Emperor  dur 
ing  the  few  days  which  preceded  his  final  and  most  disastrous  defeat,  is  considered  as 
instructive,  as  it  is  interesting."—  Arthur's  Home  Gazette. 

"  It  is  a  standard  authority  and  illustrates  a  subject  of  permanent  interest.  With 
military  students,  and  historical  inquirers,  it  will  be  a  favorite  reference,  and  for  the 
general  reader  it  possesses  great  value  and  interest."— Boston  Transcript. 

"  It  throws  much  light  on  often  mooted  points  respecting  Napoleon's  military  and 
political  genius.  The  translation  is  one  of  much  vigor."—  Boston  Commonwealth. 

"It  supplies  an  important  chapter  in  the  most  interesting  and  eventful  period  of  Na 
poleon's  military  career." — Savannah  Daily  News. 

u  It  is  ably  written  and  skilfully  translated." — Yankee  Blade. 


REDFIKLD'S  NEW  AND  POPULAR   PUBLICATIONS. 


NOTES  AND  EMENDATIONS  OF  SHAKESPEARE. 

Notes  and  Eme.ndations  to  tlie  Text  of  Shakespeare's  Plays,  from 
the  Early  Manuscript  Corrections  in  a  copy  of  the  folio  of  1632, 
in  the  possession  of  JOHN  PAYNE  COLLIKR,  Esq.,  F.S.A.  Third 
edition,  with  a  fac-simile  of  the  Manuscript  Corrections.  1  vol. 
12mo,  cloth,  $1  50. 

"  It  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  doubted,  we  think,  that  in  this  volume  a  contribution 
ha*  been  made  to  the  clearness  and  accuracy  of  Shakespeare's  text,  by  far  the  most  im 
portant  of  any  offered  or  attempted  since  Shakespeare  lived  and  wrote." — Loud.  Exam. 

"The  corrections  which  Mr.  Collier  has  here  given  to  the  world  are,  we  venture  to 
think,  of  more  value  than  the  labors  of  nearly  all  the  critics  on  Shakespeare's  text  put 
togfther." — London  Literary  Gazette. 

"  It  is  a  rare  uem  in  the  history  of  literature,  and  can  not  fail  to  command  the  atten 
tion  of  all  the  amateurs  of  the  writings  of  the  immortal  dramatic  poet."—  Ch'xton  Cour. 

"  It  is  a  book  absolutely  indispensable  to  every  admirer  of  Shakespeare  who  wishei 
to  read  him  understandingly."— Louisville  Courier. 

"  It  is  clear  from  internal  evidence,  that  for  the  most  part  they  are  genuine  restora 
tions  of  the  original  plays.  They  carry  conviction  with  them." — Home  Journal. 

"This  volume  is  an  almost  indispensable  companion  to  any  of  the  editions  of 
Shakespeare,  so  numerous  and  often  important  are  many  of  the  corrections."—  Register, 
Philadelphia. 


CM 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CRUSADES. 

By  JOSEPH  FRANCOIS  MICHAUD.     Translated  by  W.  Robson,  3  vols. 
12mo.,  maps,  $3  75. 

"It  is  comprehensive  and  accurate  in  the  detail  of  facts,  methodical  and  lucid  in  ar 
rangement,  with  a  lively  and  flowing  narrative." — Journal  of  Commerce. 

"  We  m-ed  not  say  that  the  work  of  Michaud  has  superseded  all  other  histories 
of  the  Crusades.  This  history  has  long  been  the  standard  work  with  all  who  could 
read  it  in  its  original  language.  Another  work  on  the  same  subject  is  as  improbable 
as  a  new  history  of  the  'Decline  and  Fa'l  of  the  Roman  Empire.'" — Salem  Freeman. 

"  The  most  faithful  and  masterly  history  ever  written  of  the  wild  wars  for  the  Holy 
Land." — Philadelphia  American  Courier. 

"The  ability,  diligence,  and  faithfulness,  with  which  Michaud  has  executed  hit 
great  task,  are  undisputed  ;  and  it  is  to  his  well-filled  volumes  that  the  historical  stu 
dent  muat  now  resort  for  copious  and  authentic  facts,  and  luminous  views  respecting 
this  most  romantic  and  wonderful  period  in  the  annals  of  the  Old  World."— Boston 
Daily  Courier. 


it* 


MARMADUKE  WYVIL. 

An  Historical  Romance  of  1651,  by  HENRY  W.  HERBERT,  author 
of  the  "  Cavaliers  of  England,"  &c.,  &c.  Fourteenth  Edition. 
Revised  and  Corrected. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  best  works  of  the  kind  we  hare  ever  read — full  of  thrilling  inci 
dents  and  adventures  in  the  stirring  times  of  Cromwell,  and  in  that  style  which  has 
made  the  works  of  Mr.  Herbert  so  popular." — Christian  Freeman,  Boston. 

"The  work  is  distinguished  by  the  same  historical  knowledge,  thrilling  incident,  and 
pictorial  beauty  of  style,  which  have  characterized  all  Mr.  Herbert's  fictions  and  imparted 
to  them  such  a  bewitching  interest." — Yankee  Blade. 

"The  author  out  of  a  simple  plot  and  very  few  characters,  has  constructed  a  novel 
of  deep  interest  and  of  considerable  historical  value.  It  will  be  found  well  worth 
reading." '—National  A,gis,  Worcester. 


REDFIELU'S    NEW    AND    POPULAR    PUBLICATIONS. 

Life  under  an  Italian  Despotism ! 

LORENZO  BENONI, 

OR 

PASSAGES  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  AN  ITALIAN, 

One  Vol.,  12mo,  Cloth— Price  $1.00. 

OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

«'  THE  author  of  '  Lorenzo  Benoni'  is  GIOVANNI  RUFFINI,  a  native  of  Genoa,  who  effected 
his  escape  from  his  native  country  after  the  attempt  at  revolution  in  1833.  His  book  is, 
In  substance,  an  authentic  account  of  real  persons  and  incidents,  though  the  writer  has 
chosen  to  adopt  fictitious  and  fantastic  designations  for  himself  and  his  associates.  Since 
1833,  Ruffini  has  resided  chiefly  (if  not  wholly)  in  England  and  France,  where  his  quali 
ties,  we  understand,  have  secured  him  respect  and  regard.  In  1848,  he  was  selected  by 
Charles  Albert  to  fill  the  responsible  situation  of  embassador  to  Paris,  in  which  city  he 
had  lon<r  been  domesticated  as  a  refugee.  He  ere  long,  however,  relinquished  that  office, 
and  again  withdrew  into  private  life.  He  appears  to  have  employed  the  time  of  his  exile 
in  this  country  to  such  advantage  as  to  have  acquired  a  most  uncommon  mastery  over 
the  English  language.  The  present  volume  (we  are  informed  on  good  authority)  is  ex 
clusively  his  own — and,  if  so,  on  the  score  of  style  alone  it  is  a  remarkable  curiosity. 
But  its  matter  also  is  curious." — London  Quarterly  Review  for  July. 

"  A  tale  of  sorrow  that  has  lain  long  in  a  rich  mind,  like  a  ruin  in  a  fertile  country,  and 
is  not  the  less  gravely  impressive  for  the  grace  and  beauty  of  its  coverings  ...  at  the 
same  time  tho  most  determined  novel-reader  could  desire  no  work  more  fascinating  over 
which  to  forget  the  flight  of  time.  ...  No  sketch  of  foreign  oppression  has  ever,  we  be 
lieve,  been  submitted  to  the  English  public  by  a  foreigner,  equal  or  nearly  equal  to  this 
volume  in  literary  merit.  It  is  not  unworthy  to  be  ranked  among  contemporary  works 
whose  season  is  the  century  in  which  their  authors  live." — London  Examiner. 

"  The  book  should  be  as  extensively  read  as  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,'  inasmuch  as  it 
develops  the  existence  of  a  state  of  slavery  and  degradation,  worse  even  than  that  which 
Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe  has  elucidated  with  so  much  pathos  and  feeling." — Bell's  Weekly 
Messenger. 

"  Few  works  of  the  season  will  be  read  with  greater  pleasure  than  this  ;  there  is  a 
great  charm  in  the  quiet,  natural  way  in  which  the  story  is  told." — London  Atlas. 

"The  author's  great  forte  is  character-painting.  This  portraiture  is  accomplished 
with  remarkable  skill,  the  traits  both  individual  and  national  being  marked  with  great 
nicety  without  obtrusiveness." — London  Spectator, 

"  Under  the  modest  guise  of  the  biography  of  an  imaginary  '  Lorenzo  Benoni,'  we  have 
here,  in  fact,  the  memoir  of  a  man  whose  name  could  not  be  pronounced  in  certain  parts 
of  northern  Italy  without  calling  up  tragic  yet  noble  historical  recollections.  ...  Its 
merits,  simply  as  a  work  of  literary  art,  are  of  a  very  high  order.  The  style  is  really 
beautiful — easy,  sprightly,  graceful,  and  full  of  the  happiest  and  most  ingenious  turns  of 
phrase  and  fancy." — North  British  Review. 

"  This  has  been  not  unjustly  compared  to  '  Gil  Bias,'  to  which  it  is  scarcely  inferior  in 
spirited  delineations  of  human  character,  and  in  the  variety  of  events  which  it  relates. 
But  as  a  description  of  actual  occurrences  illustrating  the  domestic  and  political  condi 
tion  of  Italy,  at  a  period  fraught  with  interest  to  all  classes  of  readers,  it  far  transcends 
in  importance  any  work  of  mere  fiction." — Dublin  Evening  Mail. 


AXD    POPULAR    PUBLICATIONS. 


"  SHAKESPE&aS  AS  HE  WHOTE  IT." 

THE  WORKS  OF  SHAKESPEARE, 

Reprinted  from,  tlie  newly-discovered  copy  of  the  Folio  of  1632 
in  the  possession  of  J.  Payne  Collier,  containing  nearly 

Twenty  Thousand  Manuscript  Corrections, 

With  a  History  of  the  Stage  to  the   Time,  an  Introduction  to 
each  Play,  a  Life  of  the  Poet,  etc. 

BY  J.  PAYNE  COLLIER,  F.S.A. 

To  which  are  added,  Glossarial  and  other  Notes,  the  Readings  of  Formef 
Editions,  a  PORTRAIT  after  that  by  Martin  Droeshout,  a  VIGNETTE  TITLK 
on  Steel,  and  a  FACSIMILE  OF  THE  OLD  FOLIO,  with  the  Manuscript  Cor 
rections.  1  vol,  Imperial  8vo.  Cloth  $4  00. 

The  WORKS  OF  SHAKESPEARE  the  same  as  the  above. 

Uniform  in   Size  with  the  celebrated  Chiswick  Edition,   8  vols. 

I6mo,  cloth  $6  00.     Half  calf  or  moroc.  extra 

These  are  American  Copyright  Editions,  the  Notes  being  expressly  prepared 
for  the  work.  The  English  edition  contains  simply  the  text,  without  a  single 
note  or  indication  of  the  changes  made  in  the  text.  In  the  present,  the  vari 
ations  from  old  copies  are  noted  by  reference  of  all  changes  to  former  editions 
(abbreviated  f.  e.).  and  every  indication  and  explanation  is  given  essential  to  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  author.  The  prefatory  matter,  Life,  <5ce.,  will  be  fuller 
than  in  any  American  edition  now  published. 

"Tnis  is  the  only  correct  edition  of  the  works  of  the  'Bard  of  Avon'  ever  issued, 
and  no  lover  or  student  of  Shakespeare  should  be  without  it." — Philadelphia  Argus. 

"  Altogether  the  most  correct  and  therefore  the  most  valuable  edition  extant." — Alba 
ny  Express. 

«'  This  edition  of  Shakespeare  will  ultimately  supersede  all  others.  It  must  certainly 
be  deemed  an  essential  acquisition  by  every  lover  of  the  great  dramatist." — N.  Y.  Com 
mercial  Advertiser. 

"This  great  work  commends  itself  in  the  highest  terms  to  every  Shakespearian  schol 
ar  and  student." — Philadelphia  City  Item. 

"  This  edition  embraces  all  that  is  necessary  to  make  a  copy  of  Shakespeare  desirable 
and  correct." — Niagara  Democrat. 

"  It  must  sooner  or  later  drive  all  others  from  the  market." — N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

"  Beyond  all  question,  the  very  best  edition  of  the  great  bard  hitherto  published."— 
ffcw  England  Religious  Herald. 

••  It  must  hereafter  be  the  standard  edition  of  Shakespeare's  plays." — National  Argiit. 

"  It  ia  clear  from  internal  evidence  that  they  are?  genuine  restorations  of  the  origi 
nal  plays." — Detroit  Daily  Times. 

"This  must  we  think  supersede  all  other  editions  of  Shakespeare  hitherto  published. 
Collier's  corrections  make  it  really  a  different  work  from  its  predecessors.  Compared 
with  it  we  consider  them  hardly  worth  possessing." — Daily  Georgian,  Savannah. 

"  One  who  will  probably  hereafter  he  considered  as  the  only  true  authority.  No  one 
we  think,  will  wish  to  purchase  an  edition  of  Shakespeare,  except  it  shall  be  conform 
able  to  the  amended  text  by  Collier." — Newark  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  A  great  outcry  has  been  made  in  England  against  this  edition  of  the  bard,  by  Sin 
ger  and  others  interested  in  other  editions  ;  but  the  emendations  commend  thenrwelvet 
too  strongly  to  the  good  sense  of  every  reader  to  be  dropped  by  the  public — the  old 
editions  must  become  obsolete."—  Yankee  Blade,  Boston. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  dare  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

Tel.  No.  642-3405 

Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  ijrior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


"1077    V 

1          J-    ,  Xn^l 

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(Q8677slO)476-A-31 


General  Libx 
University  of  CaL 
Berkeley 


M. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA"  LIBRARY 


